


Good Times Never Seemed So Good

by juliusschmidt



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coming Out, Crossdressing, Homophobia, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Sexism, Sharing Clothes, Summer Jobs, Voyeurism, bro-ing out, drunken first times, kaner's tongue, pantsless!johnny, shirtless!johnny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 17:52:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliusschmidt/pseuds/juliusschmidt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dock porters need strong legs, good balance, ready smiles"-Town Crier, Mackinac Island, MI</p>
<p>OR </p>
<p>Johnny is a miserable bastard. Kaner is a needy fuck. They are meant for each other and also for summer on Mackinac Island, fratbro paradise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Times Never Seemed So Good

**Author's Note:**

> 1) While inspired by real time spent working on [Mackinac Island](http://mackinac.com) (many years ago), I never knew any dock porters nor any [Pink Pony](http://www.chippewahotel.com/pink-pony-bar.cfm) servers personally. Nor did I attend any of the events mentioned in this fic. I worked, ran, and laid in my dorm room reading Harry/Draco fanfiction, like a boss.
> 
> 2) This fic includes _passing_ mentions of drug use, underage drinking, threesomes, and at least half a dozen OFCs, mostly all in relation to Tyler. 
> 
> 3) The quote in the summary comes from [this](http://www.mackinacislandnews.com/news/2007-08-25/PDF/Page-0.pdf) Town Crier article, [full text here](http://www.mackinacislandnews.com/news/2007-08-25/news/011.html). 
> 
> 4) Many thanks to my amazing beta dedkake (who gave this fic so much love despite giving exactly zero shits about hockey), as well as to all the bros in my life that continue to inspire me.

Shit and chocolate.

Johnny always forgets that’s what the island smells like. Fucking horses. Fucking fudge. Even the spitting drizzle and gusty breeze can’t cover up the sweet scent of Mackinac Island in the summer.

No motor vehicles. That’s good. Less carbon emissions. More walking and way more biking. Definitely part of the draw of the island. But Johnny fuckin’ hates the horses. They’re big and smelly and always in his way. And he really fuckin’ hates the piles of shit and pools of piss they leave behind in the streets.

And then there’s the fudge. Johnny figures at least a quarter of the island’s industry must be bound up in fudge production and sales. [Ryba’s](http://www.ryba.com/).[ Kilwins’s](https://www.kilwins.com/). [Murdick’s](http://www.murdicksfudgemackinacisland.com/home.cfm). [JoAnn’s](http://www.joannsfudge.com/). Each company has at least two or three shops on main street. And each store makes sure the chocolatey smell wafts out through the vents to lure in passersby.

After spending the last two summers on the island, the smell of chocolate kind of reminds Johnny of horseshit.

The [Arnold Line](http://www.arnoldline.com/ride-arnoldline/boat-choices) catamaran that brought Johnny over sounds its horn and pulls off, back to the mainland.

Johnny’s got his bike, a backpack with his laptop, a duffle of clothes, a trash bag of bedding, and ten bags of groceries. He’s never going to be able get these to the white house on his own. Where the fuck is Kaner?

The rain starts to come down harder. The awning he’s standing under is not doing much to keep him or his stuff dry. He could go inside, but moving his luggage would take a couple of minutes. And fuckin’ Kaner’s supposed to be here, with the cart.

He checks his phone. There’s a text from David. It’s a picture of a brown cow and what he thinks is David’s hand giving the camera a thumb’s up. It’s captioned, _thinkin of u bro_.

A girl in an official looking Arnold Line fleece walks over to him. Her eyes are blue and deep set. She smiles at him and nods toward his grocery pile, “Sticking around for a while?”

“Yeah,” Johnny tries to smile back. “All summer.”

“Where are you working?”

“The Chip.” Johnny scratches his neck. “You know, [the Chippewa Hotel](http://www.chippewahotel.com/)?”

She nods. “We’re not very busy today. Cause it’s May and the weather, clearly, sucks. I could probably get the dock porter— God, I forgot his name again— to grab some of this stuff for you and bring it to wherever you’re staying when he gets a minute?” She reaches for the radio that’s clipped to her belt.

Johnny catches sight of a biker racing toward them at an irresponsible speed. Johnny’s lips twitch into a smile. The fucker is late, and he promised Johnny he wouldn’t be.

Kaner doesn’t stop. Or even slow down.

“Johnny, you asshole!”

His bike tumbles down, the cart crashing against it and Kaner tackles Johnny sideways to the ground. Which is hard and wet against Johnny’s shoulder. Johnny rolls him over and pins him easily.

Kaner looks up at him, breath coming quick and shallow. He smells musty, like sweat and rain. His eyes are huge, pupils widening as Johnny watches. His lips are wet and chapped and framing a blinding smile. His body, solid and warm underneath Johnny, is vibrating with energy. Fuck.

Johnny jumps up.

Kaner is in his green Chippewa Hotel windbreaker. Fuck, he’s probably on the clock, something Johnny didn’t even think about.

Kaner brushes off his khaki shorts, hands lingering on the huge wet blotch now covering his ass. “You’re late, Johnny! There’s nothing to do here without you.”

Except. Kaner is the late one, not Johnny. Johnny had arrived exactly when he said he would. Which, he supposes, happens to be five days after Kaner had moved in.

Kaner drags his bike and cart underneath the awning and begins loading Johnny’s stuff.

“Shit, Johnny. Raisin Bran, really? Wait! Four boxes of Raisin Bran? I hate raisins and bran makes me shit a lot.”

“Fuck, Kaner, it’s for me. You are not eating my food again this year. Do your own shopping or starve.”

Kaner laughs hysterically. But Johnny is not fucking joking.

They hop on their bikes. Johnny remembers the Arnold Line girl and looks around for her, but she’s disappeared.

Main street is relatively empty. A passenger-less [taxi](http://www.mackinacisland.org/transportation/bicycles-horses-walking/) clomps past them going in the opposite direction. They pass a couple riding expensive trail bikes and wearing expensive rain gear.

Kaner begins to chatter at him. They’ve been assigned a room on the second floor of the white house. Their window looks out onto the alley. Girls were in the suite last year, maybe, cause it still smells a little bit like flowers. The room has four bunk beds, but right now they only have one other roommate. Tyler. Who has amazing pecs. Who plays the guitar. And, thus, has so much game. And, thus, has so much promise as a wingman. The minifridge is working, and it’s filled with Budweiser (shit, Johnny, no, no Bud Lite, we’re not girls, here). Frankie’s still building manager, but he’s on the mainland, in St. Ignace, today, at the hardware store or maybe the movies, so Johnny will have to sign all his paperwork tonight or tomorrow morning.

When they get to the house, Kaner drops his bike and loads up with Johnny’s stuff. Johnny drags his own bike up the front steps. It’s going to stay in their room. It’s a really nice bike. A Trek, black and green and perfect for riding the trails. Bikes disappear every day around here and Johnny is not taking chances with the all the money he spent on this beauty.

Last year, he used a shitty bike provided to him by the Chip when he was working, carrying folks’ baggage from the docks to the hotel and from the hotel back to the docks again. Johnny’s bike is way too good for that kind of heavy labor.

Tyler’s not in the room. Kaner tells him he’s spending the day training to be a server at the Pink Pony- the restaurant connected to the Chip.

As they bring the second load of groceries up, Kaner’s radio crackles out a message that there’ll be bags for him to pick up at [Shepler’s](http://sheplersferry.com/) in ten minutes. And suddenly, Johnny’s alone in the room.

Which is surprisingly neat. Well, except Kaner’s bed, against the far wall, which is covered in heaps of blankets and clothes and poptart wrappers.

The closet space is already completely filled. He recognizes a few of Kaner’s flannels and a couple Chip work shirts. But mostly it’s filled with tasteful polos and thin, soft-looking v-neck tees. All on hangers. Whatever. Johnny can use the dresser.

He opens the door to the bathroom and is hit with the lingering scent of weed and an unfamiliar spicy cologne. He strips and steps into the stall for a long, hot shower.

When Johnny’s gets out, he pulls on a pair of black running shorts and begins to unpack. He organizes his food and refolds his clothes into the dresser. Then, he makes his bed and pulls out his computer to check his email. Lying down, computer open in front of him, he falls asleep.

~~~

“Hold on second. Wait. Just let me figure out which key…” A voice outside Johnny’s door wakes him up.

“Oh my god, Tyler, you can’t even unlock your own door.” The second voice is feminine. The warm laugh that follows does not match the judgy statement.

Tyler continues to struggle with the lock. He bangs on the door twice, probably out of frustration. But Johnny’s awake now, so he rolls out of bed and opens it.

The guy, who, Johnny notes, bears several colorful tattoos, has an arm around a tiny blond. Two brunettes, with similar enough features to be sisters, are in tow. One is shaking off an open umbrella, presumably to dry it. The other is texting. The blond lets out a loud breath. “Well, hello, you!”

Johnny remembers that he’s wearing nothing but running shorts. He frowns and throws himself back onto his bed. His phone buzzes beside him. It’s a text from Kaner saying he’s getting off work.

“You must be Johnny! I’m Tyler,” the guy says. “And this is Sarah and Lexi and Isabelle.” Johnny doesn’t look up from his phone in time to see which girl is which. He doesn’t really care.

Tyler sits down on the bed right next to Johnny’s, which, incidentally, is not the one with his sheets and stuff on it. The blond sits beside him. Almost on top of him. One of the brunettes, she’s got much bigger boobs than her counterpart, sits down on Johnny’s bed. The third girl hovers near the closet, still texting.

“I know those shorts. Are you a runner?” Tyler asks.

Johnny glares at him, nodding.

“Me, too. Do you run for a school?”

Johnny continues glaring and nodding. He texts Kaner to hurry the fuck up.

“Me too. What do you run? I’m best at the 5K, but I also do the 10K.”

Johnny flicks his eyes up. The 5K. That’s his event. “PR?” He asks. Johnny’s run a 14:30. He’s not going to win nationals or go to the Olympics or anything, but for a D2 runner, he thinks it’s pretty good.

“14:17.”

Johnny looks at Tyler. Really looks at him, narrowing his eyes. He’s got a lot of bulk on in his arms and shoulders. “You’re lying. You look way too heavy to run that time.”

Tyler doesn’t protest. He laughs. “We should run together. Around the island or something. Are you gonna train this summer?”

Johnny looks back down at his phone. Where the fuck is Kaner? “Yeah sure,” he tells Tyler.

“I like to run,” says the brunette sitting next to Johnny. He doubts it. He’s heard breasts that large make running difficult and painful. “Maybe we could all go together,” she suggests.

“Yeah, babe,” Tyler says, smiling. “You think you can keep with Johnny and me?”

Johnny grips his phone, hard. He wants to tell this fucker that there is no ‘Johnny and me’ for him.

The door to the room crashes open. Kaner is soaking wet, his curls matted to his head. He is also grinning. At Tyler.

“Tyler! Bro! I remember Sarah from last night. Who’re her friends?”

He sits down on the bed, right between Johnny and the brunette. She gives Kaner a frowny look. Johnny frowns at him, too. He’s getting Johnny’s sheets wet.

Kaner keeps smiling. He lays back, putting his hands behind his head.

“I’m Lexi,” the brunette tells him. “Johnny was offering to take me running with him.”

Kaner laughs. At Johnny. Then he turns to the brunette. “Like hell he did. Johnny won’t even let me run with him.”

The brunette— Lexi— shifts so that her shirt pulls tighter across her breasts. She catches Johnny’s gaze and says, “I’m just more special than you, I guess.”

Kaner laughs. And laughs. He laughs so hard he curls into himself a bit.

The blond now sitting on Tyler’s lap says to Kaner, “You’re a dick.” She sounds almost gleeful.

Kaner sits up. To Lexi, he says, “You are barking up the wrong tree, sweetheart. Johnny’s had the same girlfriend for like three years. And he’s frustratingly faithful. There’s no way you’re about to tap that.”

Johnny feels his whole body heat up.

Kaner rolls onto his side so he’s facing Johnny. His knee pushes into Johnny’s thigh. “Which, by the way, I’m surprised you’re even here, man. You told me at New Year’s that you thought Katie wanted you to stay at school this summer.”

Johnny closes his eyes and swallows. “Actually, we broke up.”

Kaner moves closer, so he’s pressing flush against Johnny’s thigh, his mouth close to Johnny’s hip. He doesn’t meet Johnny’s eye when he says, “She was too controlling for you anyway. I think relationships can usually only handle one CF. And you definitely have that part covered.”

“Yeah, sure. It was my fault,” Johnny says. It wasn’t, really, though. Fucking Katie and her fucking accusations at that fucking track party. He’s still so pissed at her.

Kaner reaches out and squeezes his knee. He leaves his hand pressed hot against Johnny’s bare skin. A flare of arousal curls low in Johnny’s belly and suddenly he has to get out of the room.

“I’m going for a run,” he announces. He pulls on his socks and shoes. The blond is now straddling Tyler. They’re making out, wet and loud. Both brunettes are texting. Maybe each other.

As he closes the door behind him, he hears Kaner say, “Well, ladies, it looks like we’ll have to figure out a way to entertain each other.”

~~~

It’s a Tuesday, several weeks later, and Kaner has the day off. When Johnny gets home at 4pm, he’s in bed, still in his pajamas, a too big pair of ratty basketball shorts and a white wifebeater. He’s got his computer out and his headphones in. There’s a couple of empty ramen containers in the garbage, so at least he’s eaten. Probably.

Johnny strips off his Chippewa Hotel shirt and digs through his underwear drawer looking for a clean pair of shorts. He really needs to do laundry.

When he turns around, Kaner is sitting up and facing him, headphones off and phone out.

Johnny pulls off his pants. Actually, Kaner’s holding his phone out in front of him like—

“What the fuck, Kaner? Are you taking photos of me?”

“Aw. Your neck is turning all red. Are you shy, Johnny, my man?”

“Put that away, you fucking creeper.”

Kaner meets his eyes, unblinking. “I promise I haven’t taken any pictures. Yet.”

Johnny glares at him and turns around, back to Kaner as he swaps his boxer briefs for a pair of running shorts.

“I bet you could bounce a quarter off that ass, Johnny. I bet you’ve tried, in your spare time, with your track boys, haven’t you?”

“Why’re you so interested anyway?” He turns back around and Kaner’s still holding out his phone. But at Johnny’s glare he sets it down on the bed.

“You know you like it, bro. I didn’t take any photos, but I’ve just filmed your spectacular outfit transformation. Should I put it on Facebook?”

Johnny sighs. He considers diving for the phone and deleting the video. What’s Kaner’s problem anyway?

“I will fuck you up so bad if that goes on Facebook. Anyway, I’m sure you just took it to jack off to. I’m going on a run. Have fucking fun.”

Johnny’s joking of course. But as he walks out the door and sets his watch, he sees it in his head: Kaner wriggling out of his already too big basketball shorts and grabbing his cock to stroke it with one hand while the other holds the phone with the video paused on a shot of Johnny’s ass. He would probably whimper Johnny’s name. His mouth would be open stupidly wide and his eyes would be squinted stupidly closed. He probably has a jerky rhythm, fast and unpredictable.

No. Johnny cannot think like that. No. It’s going to cause him all kinds of problems. Like a boner he can’t run with.

As he lumbers down the stairs, he forces himself to think of something else. His route. Hills. He’ll run hill repeats as punishment.

~~~

When Johnny gets back from his run, it’s pretty late. He’d gotten stopped on his way back by one of the bartenders from the Pony, Sharpy, who’d apparently had a lot to say. Or who thought it was hilarious to keep Johnny on main street in his itty bitty running shorts, almost naked, for as long as possible, so that hundreds of tourists could gawk as they passed by. One man actually covered his young daughter’s eyes.

Johnny opens the door of the room to see Kaner throwing food into a backpack. To be more specific, he’s throwing Johnny’s food (a couple of apples, a half a loaf of bread, and a jar of peanut butter) into Johnny’s drawstring track backpack.

“What did I say about my food and my stuff, Kaner? I’ll help you remember. I said that it’s mine, not yours.”

Kaner smirks at him. “I know, man, I’m packing it for you. We’re going to watch the sunset.”

“You may be going to see the sunset, but I’m taking a shower. Anyway, we’re not girls.”

Kaner throws a shirt and a pair of basketball shorts at him. “Put those on. We don’t have time for a shower. We’ve got to make it to the other side of the island.”

The clothes are Kaner’s so they fit a little awkwardly, but Johnny really likes the smell of his detergent so he doesn’t complain.

Kaner says, “Wow, your ass keeps those shorts up way better than mine.”

“Jealous?” Johnny rubs on an extra layer of deodorant. He’s not sure it helps.

Kaner doesn’t respond. He’s digging through the pile of clothes under his bed. He comes up with a fancy looking camera bag. “We are going to watch the sunset so I can film it.”

“Going to use it as an opening sequence for the porno you were filming earlier?” Johnny wasn’t going to mention that video, wasn’t going to remind Kaner that he’d made it, wasn’t going to remind himself of the little fantasy—

“Yeah, the one starring me and your mom,” Kaner shoots back. Okay, apparently, it’s been forgotten.

Kaner hands Johnny the backpack and loops the camera case over his own shoulder. “Let’s go, man, quit stalling.” As if Johnny was the one with two weeks worth of clothing thrown under his bed, preventing him from finding his most expensive pieces of property.

~~~

Kaner drops his bike at a seemingly random outcropping about three quarters of a mile out of town. The spot is a tad rocky for Johnny’s taste, but he follows suit. He pulls off the backpack and grabs an apple. He’s pretty hungry.

Kaner’s slipping out of his sandals and wading out into the water. The rocks are slimy and he almost loses his balance immediately. He lets out a little yelp, but is able to steady himself. Johnny carefully does not warn him about the very expensive camera equipment hanging from his shoulder that would be ruined by a spill in the lake.

Johnny finishes the apple and tosses the core out into the water. He picks up a rock and squeezes it. He settles it between his thumb and forefinger and skips it out only a foot or two right of where Kaner’s standing. It hits the surface four times before sinking. He could do better.

The sun’s not far from the horizon, only an inch or so above it. Johnny figures they have about twenty minutes until it completely disappears. Maybe less. The sky directly above the water is a pale orange. Johnny realizes why Kaner must’ve chosen this spot. The west bluff is gray-purple, in shadow, backlit by the softly dimming sunlight. And, out on the water, they can see the [Mackinac Bridge](http://www.mackinacbridge.org/photo-gallery-10/19/) stretching from peninsula to peninsula, bathed in pink and gold light.

Kaner comes back to the dry shore and unzips his camera case. Johnny sits down, resting back on his elbows, legs spread out in front of him. Fuck, he’s tight from his run. He reaches over and digs in the backpack intent on making himself a sandwich.

As he eats, he watches Kaner click shot after shot. Of the sunset, of the bluff, of the bridge. His posture looks careless, all lose limbs and easy grace. But Johnny sees Kaner’s tongue pop out of the corner of his mouth and he knows he’s concentrating, intensely focused.

A couple bikes past them, giggling raucously, and suddenly Johnny realizes that he and Kaner haven’t said a word to each other since they left the white house. His chest tightens and he can’t help but smile, gazing at the curls on the back of Kaner’s neck.

The couple parks their bikes less than a hundred yards down the shore. The guy produces a blanket, two actually, Johnny realizes. They sit on one and wrap the other tight around their shoulders.

Kaner’s taking pictures of Johnny now.

“That shirt sucks, Johnny,” Kaner says, breaking the silence. “You’re ruining my pictures.”

Johnny starts and looks down. The shirt is neon orange. And, also, it’s Kaner’s.

“Fuck you,” Johnny says.

Kaner drops down to sit beside Johnny. He has the camera in one hand filming the sun as it begins to dip below the horizon. His other arm presses against Johnny’s. It’s warmth surprises Johnny. The temperature is dropping and quickly.

Kaner drops his head to Johnny’s shoulder, his hair tickling Johnny’s neck. A familiar heat, a slow pulse of arousal, uncurls near his groin. He closes eyes and imagines what might happen if he turned his face toward Kaner’s. If they kissed. If they—

“Holy shit, it is cold,” Kaner announces, moving away from Johnny and standing up in one smooth motion.

Johnny blinks up at him. Kaner’s in his sandals and hopping on his bike before Johnny even has a chance to grab the backpack.

He pulls off, shouting over his shoulder, “Come on, my man. I hope you have your credit card on you because we are getting drunk.”

~~~

The Pink Pony is packed, some soulful guitarist is on stage singing a Bob Dylan song, and the first person Johnny recognizes when he walks through the door is Tyler in his magenta work polo, laden with drinks. This is not happening tonight. He turns around to leave, but Kaner blocks his way.

“Oh no, Johnny,” Kaner says, “You’re not backing out of this. You promised.”

Johnny did no such thing. He agreed to go out for drinks. But he did not promise anything, and he definitely didn’t promise to be subjected to bad 1970s covers and Tyler’s stupid face all night long.

“I changed my mind. Let’s go to [Goodfellows.](http://www.lake-view-hotel.com/default.aspx?l=,1,2,10) I want to watch the game,” Johnny says.

“Johnny,” Kaner whines. Fucking Kaner and his fucking whine. “You don’t even know what game is on tonight.”

Johnny puts his hands on his hips. “Hockey. It’s the playoffs.”

Kaner pushes him toward the bar. “You don’t know even who’s playing.”

Johnny smirks. Because he has a pretty good guess. “The Red Wings.”

“Wrong. They were out last round.” Kaner steps around him. “Sharpy told me he’d give us discounted shots.”

Johnny turns around and follows Kaner. Sure enough, Sharpy is behind the bar, chatting to a busty brunette with expensive looking mahogany highlights in her hair. Sharpy actually upcharges Kaner for all his drinks, and, by the time he gets his tab, Kaner is always way too drunk to notice. Johnny thinks it serves him right because he’s a shitty tipper.

Kaner finds them two open stools in the corner, next to the wall. Johnny grabs the far one. Kaner turns his body toward Johnny. “What shift’re you on tomorrow?”

A blond curl falls into Kaner’s eye as he waits for Johnny’s answer.

“Tomorrow’s my day off. I don’t work until the day after.”

Kaner waggles his eyebrows for no apparent reason. Then he says, “We are doing Jager bombs tonight, my man.”

Johnny’s stomach rolls over remembering a similar night not two weeks back and shakes his head. “I’m going on a long run tomorrow,” he says. “Maybe 17 or 18 miles.”

Kaner squints at him. “The island is only 8 miles around, Johnny, where’re you gonna go?”

Johnny rolls his eyes. “There are trails cutting through the island. Way more than 20 miles of them.”

Kaner’s eyes narrow further. “If not Jager bombs, then tequila shots.”

Johnny shakes his head.

Sharpy finally makes his way over and Johnny’s so ready for a cold one.

He says, “I’ll take an Oberon.” At the same time Kaner says, “We’re having margaritas.”

Sharpy grins, nods, and moves away without a word. He returns with four tequila shots, saying, “I thought this was a good compromise.”

Kaner smirks at Johnny and Johnny hates him just a little bit. But he does the shots anyway.

Thirty minutes and two coronas later (apparently, the second half of Sharpy’s compromise), Kaner is shouting at him, face red and close. Johnny leans even closer, because it’s loud, what with the whole bar singing along to “Sweet Caroline.”

Johnny says, “Kaner, this song fucking sucks. It’s about pedophilia. Why don’t people think it through? It’s sickening!”

“Wrong!” Kaner grabs Johnny’s shoulder and shakes him a little. “It’s about going out, having a few beers with your boys, and singing a song together about love and happier days!”

They are so close their noses are almost touching. “You are not even listening to the words, Kaner!”

“It’s not about the words,” Kaner says, spreading his arms wide and knocking a hand into the chick on his other side. She glares at Johnny which is totally unfair. “It’s about community!”

Johnny pulls away and crosses his arms. He does not almost fall off the barstool. Definitely not. “I cannot deal with your fucking insane shit right now,” he says.

Kaner’s face falls and his eyes narrow. “My shit? Yeah right, bro.”

Two fresh Coronas appear in front of them, but Sharpy doesn’t take his hands off of them. “Aw. Fighting again? You two’ve been downing these real quick. Maybe you should slow down.”

And because that’s the worst idea ever, Johnny grabs one of the Coronas out of Sharpy’s hand and starts to chug it. Johnny is 22 years old and he can tell when he’s at his limit, and ancient ass Sharpy can suck his dick.

“Yeah, Johnny!” Kaner reaches out for a fistbump while Johnny continues to chug. Coronas are a girly drinks which means they have like no alcohol content. So whatever. He could chug ten of them. In a row. Right now.

Sharpy’s smiling broadly. To Kaner, he says, “You biking tomorrow night? Around the island? The Midnight Ride?”

Why is he asking Kaner and not Johnny? Kaner sucks at biking. He sucks at winning.

“I’m going to win that fucking race,” Johnny announces, slamming down the empty Corona bottle.

Sharpy is laughing. Which, okay, but Johnny’s not joking.

“I came in third last year and this year I’m winning.”

“Yeah, but last year you didn’t even drink.” Kaner is such an asshole. Kaner didn’t even race last year, just stood at the finish line catcalling like the lazy-ass douche he is.

“That is not true. I drank. There was alcohol in my system.”

Kaner grasps Johnny’s shoulder, and catches Sharpy’s eye, “Two Bud Lites an hour before the race does not count, am I right, Sharpy?”

“’Fraid not, Johnny. Anyway, why not challenge yourself?”

Johnny narrows his eyes. “I am challenging myself.”

Sharpy busies himself wiping down the counter. Doesn’t he have other customers to serve? Ones that tip well?

Sharpy says, “Now, teaming up with Kaner, here, that would be challenging yourself.”

“Hey, now, man!” Kaner says at the same time Johnny says, “I could win with Kaner sitting on my handlebars. I am a kick-ass biker and my bike is the kick-assest bike on this island.”

Sharpy smiles and wanders away to wait on someone at the other end of the bar.

Kaner says, “I am not sitting on your handlebars like some girl.”

“Yes, you are, and we’re going to fuckin’ win,” Johnny replies.

Kaner looks at Sharpy, eyes narrowed. Johnny expects him to protest, but instead he says, “We’re gonna win, that’s for damn sure. We’ll show Sharpy who’s the goddamn challenge.”

Johnny blinks at him. Then smiles. He thinks they might be on the same page. Maybe.

~~~

Johnny wakes up with his stomach roiling. Oh fuck. He fucking hates tequila.

He sits up, as slow as possible. He considers laying back down but his bladder is on fire. And he is not going to wet himself, not with Seguin snoring two beds over.

He knocks softly on the bathroom door.

“One second,” a feminine voice answers. Someone got laid last night. He turns slightly, curious. Kaner’s bed is a mess, but he’s gone. Right. He had the early shift this morning. And anyway, Johnny’s pretty sure the two of them spent the entire night together. He doesn’t even remember talking to any women at the bar. Which maybe should be out of the ordinary, but so totally isn’t for them.

Tyler, on the other hand, is wrapped around Susan or Sarah or Sammy, the snarky blond server from the Pony. She’s with Tyler most nights, but there’s nothing tender or romantic about the way they interact. Johnny is pretty sure their relationship revolves around kinky sex. Well, at least, he’s walked in on them going at it doggie style three times already. In a week.

A brunette, who he’s pretty sure is one of blonde chick’s friends he’s met on numerous occasions, opens the door. She’s wearing one of Johnny’s college track tees. He thinks he wore it running yesterday. Fucking gross. She winks at him before sliding into the bed with Tyler and the other girl. Really? Johnny cannot handle this right now.

He stumbles into the bathroom, so ready to pee.

When he comes out, not more than a minute or two later, Tyler is up and pulling on a pair of running shorts. He smiles broadly at Johnny, like he’s not the worst roommate ever. “I am going on a long run. Maybe eighteen miles? Want to come with?”

Johnny frowns because he was planning on running. A long run. But he does not want to spend the next two and half hours with Tyler. Fuck his life. He gestures to Tyler’s bed which is still full of chicks. He thinks they might be cuddling but he doesn’t want to look too closely. “What about them?”

Tyler just shrugs and puts his foot up on _Johnny’s_ bed to tie his shoe. Well, Johnny definitely isn’t going to stick around to hang out with Tyler’s entourage, so he changes into a fresh pair of shorts. One of the girls moans.

“Jonathan, that ass,” Tyler’s blond says. “Are you boys sure you don’t want to get back in here with us?”

Johnny flips her the bird. Tyler laughs hysterically. Okay. So maybe that wasn’t a normal reaction to being propositioned by a couple of hot, mostly naked ladies, but fuck him anyway.

~~~

When they return from the run (which was long, too long, as Tyler, bless his heart, suggested they run an extra couple miles at the end because apparently he’s insane and also fast and potentially much better than Johnny which is not cool at all), Johnny has six texts, five from Kaner.

11:02 _r u alive_

11:05 _did u choke on ur vomit_

12:15 _race 2nite yay_

1:30 _comin in 20_

1:31 _if u know what i mean_

This sixth text is from his brother. It’s a screenshot of a text message conversation with their mother, in which she asks David when he last ate a meal that didn’t come out of a box. It’s captioned, _i bet she doesn’t bother u like this_.

He doesn’t answer, but rushes to the shower before Tyler can get there. He shouldn’t have worried, though, because when he gets out, Tyler’s still doing some weird routine with hand weights.

Kaner’s back, laying on his bed, computer open, headphones in, laughing hysterically. Johnny goes to see what he’s watching cause maybe it’s an awesome youtube video that Johnny should also see. But, no, he’s only skyping with one of his sisters. Johnny’s seen a couple of them on Skype a few times, but he has difficulty keeping track of their names.

He punches Kaner in the shoulder.

“One second, Erica,” Kaner says, taking out an earbud. “What up, Johnny, my man? Ready for some grand theft bicycle?”

Erica, apparently that’s who this is, smirks, but also looks like she’s distracted, checking her email or something.

“What.” Johnny thought they were going to go have a solid meal and prepare for the race. He’s thinking they should maybe map out the course, or at least the start and finish lines.

“We need a bike for tonight,” Kaner says. To Erica, he explains, “Johnny and I are going to win a bike race, together.”

Johnny frowns. “Fuck, no, Kaner. I am going to win the race. You are going to get drunk and cheer me on.”

Kaner chuckles. “Then you admit that we couldn’t win.”

That’s when Johnny remembers the challenge. He walks over to the dresser and grabs a pair of boxer briefs.

“Win what?” Tyler asks. He’s naked, standing in the door of the bathroom. Johnny is not cataloging his tattoos. And he is definitely not trying to figure out that one on his hip, is it a snake maybe?

“The midnight ride!” Kaner replies. He types something. Then says, “Bye, Erica.” He closes his computer and waggles his eyebrows at Tyler. “You going?”

Tyler smiles. “Yeah. But I didn’t know it was a race.”

“It’s not,” Kaner says, “Unless you’re Johnny and have to win at everything.”

“It is a race,” Johnny insists because who the fuck does Kaner think he is, anyway, the race police? “And Kaner and I are going to win it.”

“Whatever, bro,” Tyler says and closes the door to the bathroom.

“About the bike, though, Kaner,” Johnny says, searching through the box on top of the fridge for a granola bar. “We should just ask Duncs from the [Island House](http://www.theislandhouse.com/) if he can grab us a tandem after his shift.”

“Where’s your sense of fun, of adventure?” Kaner says. “You’re so boring.”

“The fuck I am,” Johnny says through a mouthful of granola and flax seed.

“You are, though.” Kaner’s fiddling with his phone, not looking at Johnny. Johnny’s chest tightens.

“Right now. I’ll go grab us a bike right fucking now. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Sure, bro,” Kaner replies, still not looking up from his phone.

Johnny throws the granola bar wrapper on the ground and charges out of the room. Fuck Kaner, anyway. He has a great sense of adventure.

Kaner follows him, struggling to keep pace, all the way out onto the porch before saying, “You are balls to the walls on this, aren’t you, my man?”

A skinny girl in a bathrobe is smoking on the lawn. She nods approvingly at him. Which is when Johnny realizes he’s only wearing his underwear.

~~~

Johnny doesn’t steal the bike. He stops running toward the bike shop when he sees Tom, Johnny’s boss’s boss’s boss, walking his dog with his little daughter toddling along beside him. He hightails it back to the room quickly enough that he doesn’t think Tom sees him.

Kaner doesn’t stop laughing for a long time. Maybe twenty minutes. A hellish twenty minutes which Johnny spends texting with Duncs to arrange the pick up of a tandem bicycle from the Island House.

~~~

They get in a good position at the starting line. Johnny’s sitting in front, at Kaner’s insistence (cause you’re such a goddamn CF, man). As everyone gets settled in to begin, Kaner’s oddly silent. They’ve had a couple beers, but they’re not nearly drunk as most people.

Seguin’s beside them on the right, riding a red Schwinn straight out of the 1970s, banana seat and all. He’s giggling hysterically. He and Susie (Sarah?) hotboxed the bathroom all evening. They offered to let Johnny and Kaner in on it, but Johnny wants to fucking win this year (and, he thinks, Kaner might be totally on board with that).

Sharpy walks up to them. Johnny has no idea how he managed to get the evening off. He’s carrying a bottle of tequila. And Johnny knows he’s in trouble.

“Hey boys, what’s got you so serious? Afraid you can’t win?”

Kaner answers, “We’re gonna kick some serious ass, bro, don’t you worry.” He kicks at the pedals and the wheels spin.

Sharpy looks at Johnny and then at Seguin next to him. Seguin is singing “We Are the Champions” loudly and off-key.

Sharpy says, “You boys haven’t had nearly enough to drink to make this a fair race.” He lifts the bottle of tequila. “You need at least two big chugs apiece or your win means nothing except that you’re hyper-competitive cheaters.”

“Whatever bro,” Kaner says, kicking the pedals again.

Johnny reaches for the bottle because what the hell. “Bring it, Sharpy,” he says.

Johnny takes one gulp, and then another. It burns at the back of his throat. He wipes his mouth. Then, at Sharpy’s raised eyebrows, he takes a third gulp. As he goes to hand the bottle back to Kaner, someone begins a count backward from ten, so he shoves the tequila back at Sharpy instead.

Kaner says, “We’ve gotta get ahead right away. That’s our only chance on this piece of shit bike.” His fingers are tapping against the handle bars.

And they do. Get ahead right away, pulling easily past Seguin and everyone else on the front line.

“Yeah, fuck yeah,” Kaner mutters behind him, pedaling fiercely.

They’re fucking flying and it’s awesome. The night is cool, barely any wind, and Johnny’s so fucking happy. He guides the bike easily around turns. He doesn’t know why the hell all the tourists have such a difficult time on these things.

All the while, Kaner keeps up his commentary, “Yeah, come on, come the fuck on. Let’s go.”

They pull around a particularly tight turn and a wave of dizziness sweeps over Johnny. The tequila is catching up to him. The bike wobbles a bit.

“Fuck, Johnny, keep it the fuck up,” Kaner shouts. And it sounds filthy to Johnny.

Johnny does manage to keep it up (the bike and his pedaling) for a few minutes, but once he starts to hear Kaner’s commentary as pornographic, he can’t stop hearing it that way.

“Yeah, fuck, a little to the left. Come on, Johnny, come on. Fuck yeah. We’ve totally got this, you’ve totally fuckin’ got this, my man. Come on. Get it, Johnny, get it.”

The bike sways again. They’re drifting toward the right a lot. Johnny knows this. He’s trying to fix it.

Kaner gasps, “Come on, Johnny, fuck.”

He overcorrects and they careen into a rocky outcropping.

The bike falls hard against his thigh and pain throbs up into his groin. And he wonders how the fuck did he get boner?

Kaner rolls onto the ground and curls into a ball. He’s whining, “What the fuck, Johnny? What the hell is wrong with you? I thought you were good at this. We’re never going to win now. Man, I trusted you.”

A pack of riders pass them. Fucking Seguin is in front, still laughing, and shouting, “See you later, bros!”

Johnny rights the bike. They’ve blown the front tire. Dizziness washes over him again. His stomach flips over.

Kaner’s still at it. “How are we even going to get back? You can repair the tire right? You know shit about bikes, right? It was the tequila, wasn’t it? You fuckin’ lightweight. You don’t have to let Sharpy goad you, you know? He was just doing it for shits and giggles. You’re usually so much smarter about shit like that.”

Johnny keeps his voice low. “Shut the fuck up, Kaner.”

Kaner gets into his space. “You shut the fuck up, Johnny. You fucking blew it for us. I let you have the front because I thought you could—”

“Kaner, you stupid fuck, running your stupid fucking mouth. You were distracting me with that goddamn commentary. So before you start giving it to me, you need to check yourself.”

“Is that it, Johnny? It was my fault?” Kaner’s really fucking close, almost nose to nose with Johnny.

Another group of bikers passes, laughing and falling and not really trying to move quickly at all.

“Fuck you, Kaner,” Johnny says, grabbing his shoulders thinking to move him back a bit. He doesn’t though. He just keeps his hands there. Staring at Kaner and shaking his head. Kaner narrows his eyes.

“No, fuck you, Johnny. I know you’d rather be biking with Katie; you’d rather be spending the whole fucking summer with Katie, but you’re not. You’re here with me, man, so deal with it.”

Katie? What the hell does she have to do with Kaner’s stupid mouth. Johnny shoves at him, hard, and he stumbles. “Katie and I aren’t a thing anymore. I hate her.” Johnny’s shouting.

Kaner shoves him back, but absorbs the impact easily and readies his fist for a punch.

As he’s pulling back, Kaner says, “The fuck you do. She obviously broke up with you. I can tell by your general level of assholeness this summer.”

Johnny drops his arm and steps back. He takes three deep breaths. His whole body feels so heavy. He’s so tired. He sits down on the grass which is fucking freezing. “I broke up with her. Because she was such a bitch.”

Kaner sits next to him, close enough that their shoulders touch. He’s looking at Johnny and licking his lips. Goddamn that fucking tongue. Johnny closes his eyes.

“She told everyone I sucked at sex. That she was pretty sure I was gay.”

What the hell. He did not mean to say that. Fucking tequila shots. Fucking Sharpy.

Kaner’s staring at him, mouth gaping, when he says, “What?”

Johnny lays flat on his back. Kaner follows suit, but rolls over onto his side so that now he’s looking down at Johnny.

“She was drunk and loud. Jimmy was hitting on her. And she said that to him. And I overheard. And we shouted. We haven’t talked since.”

Kaner just keeps looking at Johnny. Johnny wishes he wouldn’t. He wishes that he’d look away.

“Are you?”

“Fuck you, fucker. I’m awesome at sex.”

Kaner chokes out a laugh. He moves to lay on his back. “Sure, bro. I meant, are you gay?”

Johnny’s throat feels tight. His stomach roils. He doesn’t want to lie to Kaner. So he nods. He’s not sure if Kaner sees. But then Kaner tangles their fingers together and says, “Cool, my man, cool.” It’s soft and husky.

Johnny feels all the tension drain out of his shoulders and neck. Sleep catches him.

~~~

When Johnny wakes up, it’s raining. Kaner has snuggled close, with an arm across Johnny’s chest, a leg covering both of Johnny’s, and his face pressed into Johnny’s armpit. Johnny sits up, but doesn’t quite move away from Kaner. It’s way too cold for that. It’s dark out, but Johnny can’t tell if it’s because of the rain or if it’s still nighttime. He glances at his wrist. How the fuck did he forget to put on his watch last night?

He pulls out his phone. 4:30am. Okay, nighttime then. He shakes Kaner awake. They’re gonna have to walk back. He’s on a 6:30am shift. He’s pretty sure Kaner’s in at 12, the lucky bastard.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, as Kaner blinks up at him.

Kaner sits up quickly, grabs Johnny’s shoulder and grins, huge with lots teeth showing. Johnny’s heart aches, a little. He doesn’t smile back. Instead, he stands up and walks over the bike.

Kaner says, “Hey. Johnny. I’m so glad you came out to me last night, man. I totally support you. In every way. I think it’s awesome, actually.”

“Being gay is not awesome, Kaner.”

Johnny decides there’s nothing for it, they’re just going to have to slowly roll the bike back to the shop. Hopefully, Duncs won’t get in too much trouble. Johnny can probably afford to repair the tire, if he needs to.

Kaner falls in step beside him, shivering a little. “I didn’t mean being gay. I meant you coming out. To me. You’re like my best friend and, well, yeah.”

They fall silent for a few minutes.

Then Kaner says, “But being gay is pretty awesome, too. Like you don’t have to deal with girls’ feelings and weird feminine shit. Getting laid is so much easier.”

Johnny looks at Kaner who’s not looking at him, but is focused straight ahead. He’s chewing on his lip. Then, he meets Johnny’s eyes and offers a weak smile.

“I don’t really want to talk about it, Kaner. So please don’t bring it up again.”

Kaner winces. “Sorry, my man, but it’s, like, a pretty big deal. So.”

Johnny swallows. His throat is really, fucking dry. “It’s not a big deal. It’s probably. Maybe not even any deal at all. You can’t tell anyone.”

When Kaner doesn’t say anything, Johnny glances over at him. He’s frowning, still chewing his lip, and his eyebrows are furrowed.

“Seriously, Patrick. You don’t know what this is like for me. Please, don’t tell anyone.”

Kaner nods but his expression doesn’t change. He says, “Sure, man.”

They’re silent for the rest of the walk back. It’s almost 5am by the time they’re at their room and Johnny’s sticking his keys in the bolt. Before he turns the handle, they hear a moan and an “Oh my God, Tyler, _ohmygod_.”

“Fuck,” Johnny says.

Kaner slides to the ground, pressing his back up against the opposite wall. “Come on,” he says and gestures for Johnny to sit beside him. Johnny does, sighing.

The moans turn into little rhythmic shrieks. Kaner gives him a small half smile and squeezes his thigh. “I guess we just wait it out. Really, he can’t have that much stamina.”

Johnny’s still freezing. Kaner moves closer and leans his head against Johnny’s shoulder. He’s warm, pressed tightly against Johnny. Johnny lets himself close his eyes, for just another minute or two, until Tyler finishes up, at least.

~~~

Two weeks after the midnight ride, Johnny gets off work a little early, around 6 instead of 8. He texts Kaner to see if he wants to grab dinner together. Kaner replies with a _y_ and then a _now????_

He finds Kaner in their room with six different shirts out on his bed. He’s currently buttoning up a red and black plaid tee.

“Hot date?” Johnny asks because apparently Kaner also has gotten into the hair gel.

Kaner frowns and licks his lips. “Um,” he says slowly, “I thought we were going to dinner.” After a moment, he licks his lips again, the pink tip of his tongue lingering on his bottom lip. Johnny has to turn around. Not to hide a boner or anything, to change.

“I’m joking Kaner. You have the worst game.” Johnny strips out of his work polo and khakis. It’s DJ night at [Horn’s](http://www.hornsbar.com/), so Johnny pulls out his tightest pair of jeans.

“Okay, damn,” Kaner says, hotly. “I’ll just make some ramen, then.”

Johnny turns back to Kaner as he wiggles his way into his jeans. “I meant I was joking about the date. We are definitely grabbing dinner. And then going to Horn’s. So you can dance.”

Johnny opens up his shirt drawer. It’s mostly empty. He turns to Kaner and points to the shirts on his bed, “Those clean? I’m outta nice clothes until I do some laundry.”

Kaner shrugs, “Have at it, my man.”

Johnny pulls on a soft, red long sleeve tee that Kaner wears a lot around the dorm. Johnny really likes the shirt, especially how it feels against his skin, thin, but warm. He lets his fingers run over the fabric on his front a few times. “Fuck, this shirt is sweet,” he says.

Kaner laughs and moves close in behind Johnny, running his own fingers down Johnny’s arms. “Yeah,” he says, breath hot against Johnny’s neck. “Looks good on you, man. Feels good, too, if you know what I mean.”

Johnny pulls away, because, fuck, what the hell is Kaner even doing? Does he think he’s being funny, like, teasing Johnny about being gay or something?

“I don’t know what you mean, you crazy fuck,” Johnny replies, trying to control the anger behind it. He goes to dig his wallet out of his work khakis. “Pizza good?” He asks.

Johnny finds his phone, to call Goodfellow's, but Kaner doesn’t reply.

Johnny turns to him. Kaner’s sitting on his bed, now, on top of a couple of the leftover shirts, chewing his lip, foot tapping incessantly. Johnny waits. This shouldn’t be that hard of a decision. After a minute, Kaner looks up at Johnny. “What?” he asks.

Johnny frowns. “I asked if you wanted pizza.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. From Goodfellow's? To eat at the park? And watch the sunset?”

Kaner’s smiling again. And Johnny nods.

Later, Johnny sits on the bench, pizza beside him, watching Kaner snap photo after photo of the orange sky. Finally, he turns around and snaps one of Johnny.

“Are you going to eat or what?” Johnny asks.

“Yeah, man, I just didn’t want to waste the light.”

Kaner sits beside him, camera hanging around his neck, grinning as he bites into his first slice of pizza. Johnny’s already eaten his half of the box.

When Kaner finishes his first slice, he says, “I’m seriously so happy you told me that you’re gay. It’s really helped me think about some things.”

Johnny’s insides twist. “So glad I could help you out.”

Kaner nudges him, still smiling as he reaches for another slice of pizza. “I think you’re really brave to come out.” He takes a bite and then says around his food, “It’s, like, inspiring, or some shit.”

Johnny closes his eyes. “I’m not out, Kaner.”

Kaner puts a greasy hand on Johnny’s knee and squeezes, kind of hard. “You are to me, bro.”

Johnny sighs. Kaner keeps eating, but his leg is jittering.

“It’s just—” Kaner begins after another minute or two.

“Look,” Johnny says, “I really don’t want to talk about this. You’re the only person that knows and, for now, I really want to keep it that way.”

Kaner swallows a bite of his pizza. “Fine,” he says, “We don’t have to talk about it. I just want you to know that I think you’re awesome and I’m right behind you.”

Johnny runs a hand through his hair. He wants to look at Kaner, but he doesn’t. “Thanks, Kaner. It actually really means alot that you have my back.”

Kaner snorts, “Johnny-”

“I’m serious. I’m done with this topic. If I ever want to talk about it again, I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah, sure,” Kaner says, rising up and unhooking his camera from around his neck. He starts filming some little kids running around the play structure. Johnny’s pretty sure that’s illegal, but he’s also pretty sure Kaner’s hot pissed at him, so he doesn’t say anything.

~~~

It’s dark when they head back into town. Kaner walks unusually close at his side, so close that their fingers occasionally brush. Every time it happens, Johnny feels his heartbeat accelerate. Kaner’s quiet, chewing his lip and Johnny doesn’t think he’s purposely messing with him.

And, despite (definitely not because of) the swell of arousal that pulses through him after each brush, Johnny feels reassured by the contact. Kaner may be pissed at him, but he’s still here, next to Johnny, touching Johnny.

They stop outside of Horn’s. Lady Gaga is blaring and, even though its only eight-thirty, the dance floor is already packed. Johnny recognizes the bouncer, but he doesn’t know him. He fumbles for his ID. Kaner finds his first. But he waits for Johnny before going inside.

They head straight to the bar where Johnny orders them matching whiskey and cokes. Kaner finishes his quickly and then orders another shot of whiskey. Johnny’s not in a hurry. He has the early shift tomorrow. Kaner grabs at Johnny’s arm and says into his ear, “Dance with me?”

Johnny replies, “You know I don’t dance, Kaner.”

Kaner frowns. “Not when you’re sober, so drink up, my man.” He moves away from Johnny toward the dance floor. Johnny tries not to lose sight of him in the crowd.

~~~

Sarah, that’s definitely the name of Tyler’s sort of girlfriend. And right now, she’s here and Tyler isn’t. She’s brought a friend, some skirts and wigs, and a make-up bag— a giant make-up bag.

Kaner’s computer is blaring Destiny’s Child. Then Britney Spears. Then the Spice Girls.

Johnny stretches. He’d done some hill repeats that afternoon, to burn off some extra energy. He’d stretched right afterward, but now, hours later, he can still feel a pull and burn in his hamstrings.

It’s the night of the Dock Porter [Bar Crawl](http://www.mackinacisland.org/nightlife/pub-crawl/). Tradition has them dress as women and then solicit every bar on the island. It’s the one night people buy drinks for them, instead of them buying drinks for the ladies. The free drinks are pretty great. And the cross-dressing isn’t so bad because everyone’s doing it. Still, the whole ordeal makes Johnny uncomfortable. He’s ready for the night to be over. Or, actually, he’s ready to be so blitzed that he couldn’t give two shits about how he’s dressed. Or how Kaner’s dressed.

Johnny finishes his stretches and sits on his bed watching while the girls unpack their gear. Kaner’s got his ass in the air as he digs under his own bed for who the hell knows what. He comes up with a small duffle out of which he produces a pink sparkly tube top (or maybe tube dress, Johnny really can’t tell), orange tights, and a pair of red high heels.

“What the fuck, bro?” Johnny says. Because, really, what the fuck? He would never, _never_ , have pegged Kaner for a cross-dresser. Okay, maybe he’s thought about it once or twice. But really, now.

“I’ve dressed up as a woman lots of times, my man,” Kaner explains. “Stuffing a bra is an art, and I’ve perfected it.”

Then he says, “Fuck. I don’t have a bra.”

He looks at Sarah and she shakes her head. “Sorry, Kaner. You can’t have the one I’m wearing. I hope your dress stays up. Not.”

Sarah’s friend walks over to Johnny and holds a container of red polish next to his hand. “Not your color, I don’t think,” she says.

“With my sisters around, it’s always been a super easy Halloween costume.” His face falls suddenly. “But, Johnny, you can’t tell them I’m good with it. Because when they do me up, I’m definitely not good with it.”

Johnny runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know your sisters, Kaner.”

Kaner nods. “Good,” he says. “Let’s keep it that way.” He maintains eye contact with Johnny as he starts shucking off clothes. Turns out, the dude gets naked pretty quick. He shakes his dick at Johnny, all the while waggling his eyebrows. “You want a piece of this or what, bro?”

Johnny is in no way attracted to the shithead.

Sarah’s friend shrieks and turns away. Johnny smirks at Kaner trying his best not to let his gaze fall back down.

Sarah says, “Put that away, Patty Cakes. Nobody wants to see your itty bitty dick. Except possibly Johnny, apparently.”

Johnny chest clenches and he bites back his denial. She’s just joking.

“Fuck you,” Kaner says, “I’m a grower.” And he slithers in the tube dress, because apparently that’s what it is, though it ends at least six, maybe ten, inches above his knees.

“Here,” Sarah hands Johnny a black skirt. It looks small. “This will look super hot.”

Johnny strips down to his briefs. He was thinking ahead, unlike fucking I only own boxers so let me wave my dick around like douchebag Kaner. He slips into the skirt and turns to the side to let Sarah zip it up in the back for him. It’s tight and she struggles a bit. Johnny will not be able to sit down in it. He’s about to ask if she has something else, when he looks to Kaner for a chuckle and waggling eyebrows. But Kaner’s not even grinning. He’s licking his lips and his eyes are focused right on the curve of Johnny’s ass. He meets Johnny’s gaze and offers a small, warm smile. Johnny’s breath catches and, fuck, he’s getting hard which is not at all comfortable in this goddamn skirt.

“What do I wear with it?” His voice comes out a little raspy. Fucking Kaner.

“Don’t you have a red long sleeve t-shirt? It’s, like, tight and soft-looking?” It’s Sarah’s friend and she’s got her back to them as she sorts through make-up on top of the dresser.

“That’s my shirt,” Kaner says. He’s sitting on his bed and pulling on the orange tights in what looks like a very practiced motion.

“Great,” Sarah says, “Johnny’s borrowing it for the night. He should probably borrow it forever cause it washes you out.”

Kaner sticks his tongue out at her. He lifts up the high heels. “These are for you, my man.”

Johnny frowns. No way in hell is he going to wear those. “What about you, Kaner?”

“I’ll just go in flip flops. These heels are actually too big for me, if you can believe it.”

Sarah giggles. “After earlier, we can definitely believe it.”

Kaner flips her off.

Johnny leans over to grab the heels from Patrick. Sarah hands him the shirt, which she’s pulled out off a hanger in the closet. He puts on the shirt, first, and then the shoes. They hurt, but not as much as he expected them to. He glances at Kaner who’s wearing that soft, eager smile again. It widens to a grin and he waggles his eyebrows. “Yeah, buddy,” he says.

“I just can’t find the right reds for you, Johnny.” Sarah’s make-up friend says.

“Here’s the deal,” Johnny says, “I’ll wear the wig, but not the make-up.”

The girl turns around and looks pleadingly at Kaner who says, “Same.” Then he turns back to Johnny. “Let’s see you walk in those.”

Johnny tries, going the ten feet from the end of his bed to the bathroom door. He doesn’t fall over, so that’s good.

Kaner wolf whistles. “Give us a twirl, bro,” he says.

Johnny complies.

Tyler bursts into the room, stopping abruptly as the door slams behind him. After a minute, he says, “You are one hot lady, Toews. I’d definitely sleep with you. That ass is gorgeous.”

“What about me?” Kaner asks, shimmying at Tyler.

“For someone with so many fucking hot-ass sisters, you are a disappointment.”

~~~

Johnny thinks Horn’s is bar ten, but he’s having difficulty keeping track. Someone’s given him a cup with a couple fingers of burning liquor. He chokes it back. He’s pretty sure he should switch over to beer soon, but yeah.

Kaner’s next to him, bobbing his head along to the lame ass music. He’s lost the red wig Sarah’d pinned on earlier and his curls look sweaty and matted. Johnny still wants to touch them. So he does, combing his fingers through the mess of hair at the back of Kaner’s neck.

“What the?” Kaner pulls away, eyes wide.

“Your hair’s a mess,” Johnny tells him. “It’s sweaty and gross,” he adds, reaching out to touch it again.

Kaner doesn’t pull away this time. Instead, he waggles his eyebrows, and says, “You like it that way, don’t you, bro?”

Johnny does. It makes him think of hot showers, long runs, and slow, hard fucks. He lets his fingers linger a little.

Seabs approaches them, not wobbling at all in his heels. “Hey boys, we’re off to the Mustang? You comin’ or what?”

When they arrive, the Mustang is dark and loud. The dance floor is packed, bodies against bodies. As he watches them writhe, Duncs hands him a beer and orders that he chug it. “Cause it’s time to fucking dance, Jonathan.”

Johnny complies downing the beer while several of the guys cheer him on.

He looks at the dance floor again. Cause, yeah, he’ll fuckin’ dance.

Why is there a blue strobe light?

Duncs shoves him into the crowd of bodies. A girl with a hell of a sunburn moves to dance with him. She’s blonde, but her eyebrows are dark. Johnny thinks its a pretty unprofessional looking dye job. He dances with her anyway, all the while scanning the dancefloor.

He doesn’t know where Kaner is. Kaner’s been right there beside him all night.

“Worried, hun?” the girl asks, her mouth close to his ear. Her breath smells like cigarettes and not the good kind.

Johnny backs up a little. “I just can’t find my friend I came here with.”

The woman backs away further. “Oh, I see,” she says, giving him a really fucking angry frown and then wandering away.

Someone taps Johnny’s shoulder, and so he turns. It’s Kaner. Thank fucking God. He’s smiling, hugely.

“Holy shit, my man! You’re dancing.”

The top of Kaner’s dress has slipped down. Johnny can see the tip of his left nipple, small, pink and pebbled. Kaner follows Johnny’s gaze and then hitches his dress up. “I guess I need some breasts to hold this up,” he says.

Johnny can’t stop looking at Kaner. His bare collar bones, his neck, the swell of adam’s apple, his lightly freckled shoulders. “No you fuckin’ don’t. So much better this way,” he tells him.

Kaner turns Johnny’s body a little, so he can plaster himself along Johnny’s back. He wraps a hand across Johnny’s waist and pulls them flush against one another. And, fuck, Kaner’s not wearing any underwear, so Johnny can feel his cock, hard and hot against Johnny’s ass. Kaner grinds rhythmically against him, letting out soft whimpers close to Johnny’s ear. Johnny reaches down to adjust himself. It’s difficult in the skirt. And they’re in fucking public. Johnny doesn’t know what the hell is happening.

“Come the fuck on, Johnny, dance with me,” Kaner mutters, lips pressing against Johnny’s neck. His hand slips lower, to grip Johnny’s hip. Johnny realizes he’s stopped moving and that he’s breathing hard and heavy. He starts to meet Kaner’s thrusts. He tips his head back, to try to meet Kaner’s eyes. Kaner presses an open mouth to Johnny’s jaw.

“Holy fuck, Patrick,” Johnny mutters, not sure if Kaner can hear him over the pounding base.

“What, Johnny? Tell me what it is.” He punctuates the statement by running his hand over Johnny’s hard-on. Pressing down, only slightly.

“Fucking, fuck, I’ve never…” He grinds hard against Kaner. “I’ve never…”

Kaner let’s go of Johnny’s waist, and spins him around. It’s difficult to make out his expression in the dim, erratic flashing of the strobe light. “You’ve never what, Johnny?”

Johnny clutches at Kaner’s biceps, trying to pull him close again. “Fuck, Kaner.”

“Use words, Johnny, right fucking now.” Johnny wonders if Kaner is sober. That doesn’t seem possible. He shakes Johnny a little.

“I’ve never, fuck, I’ve never _anything_ with a guy before.” Johnny smiles, when gets the words out. He’s proud because he knows Patrick likes it when he tells him secrets.

Kaner’s eyes narrow. He licks his lips. Johnny follows the movement of his tongue hungrily.

Someone bumps into Johnny, spilling beer onto his, no, actually it’s Kaner’s, shirt.

“Fuck,” Johnny says. Now the shirt is sticky and gross. He starts to take it off. Kaner reaches out to pull the shirt back down. Johnny fights him. He really doesn’t want to be wearing the shirt. It’s wet and too goddamn hot. But, vaguely, he thinks, he doesn’t want to rip the shirt, so he lets Kaner win and keeps it on.

“I think we should probably get out of here, my man. You are beyond wasted. How are you even standing?”

Johnny blinks at him. “I am great at standing.”

“Sure you are, bro.” He grabs Johnny’s arm and drags him toward the door. Kaner calls out to someone as they exit, Johnny’s not sure who. He doesn’t care. He cares that he’s pretty sure he’s about to make out and maybe even have sex with his first dude ever and that that first dude is totally going to be Kaner.

As soon as they get out onto the street, Johnny falls over.

“Good at standing, maybe, bro,” Kaner says, “But not so good at walking.”

Johnny looks up at him from the road. He rips off the high heels. “I’ll be better, I promise.”

Kaner looks away, swallowing. “I’m sure you will.” He offers Johnny a hand. Which Johnny does not take. He can stand up on his own, thank you very much. And so he does. And he doesn’t even take very long. Kaner’s laughing. And why the fuck isn’t he as drunk as Johnny?

“I am drunk, you dumb fuck, just not as shitfaced as you, bro,” he tells Johnny who is apparently talking a lot more than he means to be.

Johnny drapes an arm around Kaner who, because he’s Johnny’s best friend ever, lets him lean on him all the way down Main Street.

They don’t talk. Or Johnny doesn’t think they do. Cause he doesn’t have anything to say. Mostly he’s just thinking about before. On the dance floor. And Kaner’s cock. The little shit must actually be a grower.

“Can we stop for a minute?” Johnny asks in front of the park. “I have to piss.” He pulls off of Kaner and climbs over the concrete barrier and up the hill. The grassy lawn is cold under his bare feet. There’s a little play structure in the corner of the park that will cover him from the view of passersby.

“Johnny. The white house is like less than a three minute walk from here. Can you please just hold it?” Kaner’s close behind him.

Johnny cannot hold it. He finds his way into the shadows of the play structure and hikes up his skirt. He relaxes into the piss. Fuck, that feels better. He finishes and shakes off his dick. He pulls his skirt back down. It gets caught for a moment on his ass.

He turns around. Kaner is leaning against the slide, watching him, the heels Johnny’s been wearing dangling from one hand. His dress is falling down again.

Johnny starts to move toward him, but, then, stops a few feet away. His feature are hard to make out in the dark.

“Come here, Johnny,” Kaner says.

Johnny moves in close, so their faces are only inches away. Kaner licks his lips. Johnny feels completely sober and completely wasted at the same time.

“Johnny, I need to tell you, I—”

Johnny cuts him off. “Fuck, Patrick. I really want to kiss you.”

He’s not sure who moves first, but suddenly Kaner’s mouth is hot against his. He tastes like vodka and then, shit, his tongue, his fucking tongue, makes its way into Johnny’s mouth. Johnny meets it with his own. Goddamn.

He pulls back for a breath, but Kaner chases his mouth, with quick kisses. Kaner’s hands are on hips, sliding up and underneath his shirt. Johnny pulls the hem out of Kaner’s grip and lifts it over head. They’re not kissing, but their mouths are close, so close that Johnny can still taste the liquor on Kaner’s breath. Kaner’s hands are all over him, his stomach, his shoulders, his back, finally resting gently on his ass.

He slides his leg between Kaner’s, grinding his cock against Kaner’s thigh. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah,” Kaner mutters against his neck. He rucks up Johnny’s skirt and slides Johnny’s briefs down to his knees.

Johnny moans and fists his hands in Kaner’s hair, shoving him hard against the slide. He thrusts forward, Kaner matching his rhythm. The fabric of Kaner’s dress chafes his cock and so he pushes it up and at the same time as Kaner’s pulling down his tights. At the first press of skin on skin, Kaner bites into his neck, hard.

Johnny cries out, and Kaner mashes their mouths together, cutting off the end of Johnny’s shout. They keep rutting against each other, cocks trapped between them. Delicious, perfect friction. Kaner’s movements become a little wild and off beat.

“Come on, Johnny, come on,” he whimpers, coming wetly between them.

Johnny speeds up. Kaner’s fingers slide down between Johnny’s asscheeks and press firmly right behind his balls. And, oh.

“Fucking fuck,” Johnny whines, whiting out, his come spurting against him and Kaner.

Johnny stays like that whole body pressed up against Kaner, leaning against the slide, panting heavily, for a long minute. Then, Johnny stands up straight, stomach suddenly rolling over uncomfortably.

Kaner meets his eyes, giving him a huge dimpled grin. Johnny finds himself smiling back, and leaning in for quick kiss. Kaner laughs, a relaxed and happy laugh, as he starts to right his clothing, then Johnny’s.

Once he’s finished, he smacks Johnny hard on the shoulder and says, “Let’s go back to the dorm, man.”

They begin to walk. Johnny’s covered in come and beer. He’s in a fucking skirt. His feet are bare and freezing. He wants a toilet, though he’s not sure whether he would piss or vomit in it. Most of all, he’s so fucking tired.

“Tough shit, my man, we’re almost there,” Kaner says. And Johnny realizes he must’ve been thinking out loud again.

Kaner unlocks the front door and lets Johnny lean heavily on him as they climb the stairs.

The room is empty. Tyler’s left a note on the dresser, but Johnny doesn’t bother to read it. He heads straight for the bathroom. After a minute or two of kneeling in front of the toilet, he decides maybe he’s not going to vomit after all. After a long piss, he comes back into the dorm room.

Kaner’s laying face down on his own bed, still in the dress, sprawled out on top of the covers. He doesn’t move, not even when Johnny accidentally sends his water bottle crashing to the ground. Water. Yeah. He picks it up and drinks greedily. He thinks he manages to get most of his clothes off before collapsing in his own bed.

~~~

Johnny wakes up with a start, his alarm blaring. It’s noon and he’s got work in two hours. And, fuck, he’s gotta run before that. Why is his alarms so loud? He fumbles for his phone to turn it off.

The room is empty. Kaner must’ve had to work early.

Kaner.

Holy fuck.

Johnny closes his eyes and lays back down. He can picture Kaner’s relaxed and sated smile, dimples flashing. His phone buzzes.

It’s a text from Kaner and Johnny decides not to read it. He’s gotta go run.

He gets out of bed and digs through his laundry for a pair a of shorts. He feels disgusting. It’s really humid and his skin is damp all over. He smells like sweat and beer and sex.

Holy fuck.

He had sex with Kaner.

He remembers the hot imprint of Kaner’s cock against his thigh. Well, he’s definitely gay. Now that he’s made out and fucked around with another guy, he can’t hide behind that uncertainty anymore.

They were pretty drunk. And wearing skirts. That has to be Kaner’s excuse.

~~~

He runs. He showers. He dresses for work. He’s got two new text messages, one from Seabs and another from Kaner. He should check them before he goes in. It could be about dock porter shit.

From Seabs:

1:52 _fun night, eh?_

Fuck him, anyway.

From Kaner:

12:05 _fuckin 20 cents is not a tip_

1:50 _i wanna get some shots of the sunset 2nite u in_

Johnny thinks about watching the sunset with Kaner. His pulse picks up a bit.

Okay. Actually, they do that all the time. It’s totally normal. _For you two, fuckers,_ Sharpy’s voice adds.

_Sounds good_ , he types in the reply. He deletes it. _Fuck yeah_ , he tries instead. Okay, no. He deletes that. In the end, he settles on a simple _y_. He’s gonna see Kaner in like two minutes when they switch off shifts, anyway, so it’s no big deal.

~~~

Except that Kaner’s already off by the time he starts. He sees Seabs at Shepler’s dock. He smacks Johnny hard on the shoulder, laughing.

“Glad to see you’re still alive, buddy,” he says.

Johnny mutters, “Fuck you, man.”

Seabs just laughs harder. He’s bungying a small suitcase to the front of his bike. “Seriously, Johnny, it’s rough going when _Kaner_ is taking care of your drunk ass. I mean,” he leans close to Johnny, “you were dancing at one point… with Kaner.”

Johnny remembers that. He remembers the press of Kaner hard against his back, against his ass. Johnny reaches for the bags marked for the Chippewa. There’s at least nine or ten. He’s gonna have to use his cart. He doesn’t really want to talk about last night anymore.

Seabs doesn’t say anything else. Thank fuck.

It’s actually a great shift. Couple of generous tippers. Nice weather, not too hot for late afternoon.

He’s got one more hotel run before he’s off, so he checks his phone. Two messages, one from David and one from Kaner. David’s is a picture of giant hamburger (four patties) captioned _almost as big as ur ego bro_ and Kaner’s says, _heading to the park now see u there_.

~~~

Tyler’s at the park with Kaner. Kaner is shooting a video of him on the swing, singing, the sunset in the background. Johnny’s grip tightens on his handlebars. Fuck no. He makes to turn his bike around. He did not agree to this.

But Kaner has already caught sight of him. He lowers the camera and calls out. “Pizza’s on the bench. Tyler and I are finished, so it’s all yours.” And then he goes back to shooting Tyler goofing off.

Johnny eats the pizza. It has mushrooms on it. They never order pizza with mushrooms. He loves them, but Kaner literally wretches at the sight of them. Apparently, Kaner’s willing to put up with them if Tyler wants them.

Johnny tries not to watch as Tyler and Kaner make their way over to him, laughing and shoving. Kaner looks relaxed and Johnny hates him.

Kaner throws an arm around Johnny in a side hug, and then keeps it there. As he explains the “art” Tyler’s been helping him create. Tyler keeps smirking at Johnny while he eyes the arm Kaner has around him. It’s heavy anyway, so Johnny shrugs Kaner off and gives him a little glare.

Kaner yelps a little, and, okay, maybe Johnny did jerk violently. He says, “Fuck. Sorry, my man.” He moves away from Johnny a little, which was not Johnny’s goal. Or maybe it was.

Tyler says, “Heard you only got more gorgeous last night, Johnny. Kaner could not stop talking about your ass in that skirt. Neither could Sarah, for that matter.” He winks.

Kaner’s fiddling with the pizza box. Johnny considers Kaner’s hilariously ironic fascination with his ass. He thinks viciously that it didn’t feel so ironic last night when he was grinding against it and grabbing at it.

The sun has disappeared, but it’s still relatively light outside. Tyler says, “I was thinking about going to Goodfellow's to watch some baseball. Anyone interested?”

“In watching baseball?” Johnny asks, at the same moment as Kaner says, “Yeah, sounds fun.”

Johnny frowns at him. He’s never seen Kaner sit through a whole sports game of any kind. He can’t imagine him watching _baseball_.

Kaner meets his eyes, holding his gaze tightly and with heat. After a minute he says to Tyler, though still looking at Johnny, “Verlander’s pitching tonight, right?”

“Fuck yeah, bro,” says Tyler.

Kaner nods still maintaining eye contact with Johnny. “You coming?”

“Hell, no,” Johnny says. And then suddenly his whole body feels so heavy. “I’m tired,” he adds.

Kaner’s face softens and he reaches out and squeezes Johnny’s bicep. “Alright then, see you later, my man.”

Johnny nods and hops on his bike. As he rides back to the white house, he wishes he’d said yes. He wishes he was with Kaner right now.

~~~

Johnny opens the door to the room and trips over a pile of clothes on the floor. He reaches down to pick them. Shirts. Clean shirts, some his, some Kaner’s. He has to talk to Kaner about going through his stuff without asking.

His phone buzzes. Fucking Kaner. He’s not going to fuckin’ meet him and Tyler at any goddamn bar.

Still, Johnny pulls his phone out, preparing a biting retort. Except the message is actually from David. Johnny realizes he never replied to the hamburger message from earlier.

David’s newest text reads, _mom is annoying me abt school stuff distract her pls_.

Johnny sets the phone down. He goes to the bathroom, strips down to his boxers, and brushes his teeth. Thinking of Kaner and Tyler wandering in late, he turns on the lamp on the dresser and then flips the switch to the overhead lights.

He looks at his phone again.

He types _would telling her im gay work?_ He hits send, deciding the text is perfectly ambiguous.

Johnny rolls over. What’s going through David’s head? Will he call? Should Johnny call him? Will David show their parents? He’s not going to be able to sleep.

His phone buzzes. David’s sent him a picture of their family dog, asleep. He didn’t include a caption.

What the fuck?

Then, another buzzes in. _i told mom ur callin her now._

His phone lights up: _Home_.

He answers, “Hey?”

“Hi, Johnny, it’s your mom.”

“Hi, Mom.”

“You’re brother— who’s seriously trying to fail out of summer school by the way— told me that you wanted to talk. What’s going on, dear? Are you having a good week? Hold on— No, Davey, I just got on the phone with him. Sorry, Johnny, you’re brother is in here asking questions.”

“Mom, I’m gay.”

The moment he says it, he realizes they should have been on Skype. Or maybe he should have waited till his week in Winnipeg at the end of the summer. This is not a conversation he wants to have while on the phone. In his dorm. When Kaner or, fuck, Tyler could walk in any second.

He doesn’t have long to think about it because his mom is talking, “Oh Johnny. I’m so glad you told us. I wondered what had happened with Katie. I saw that you guys had broken up on Facebook. I did like her, though, I hope it wasn’t too bad. You’ll have to tell me the story.”

She pauses. Johnny doesn’t feel like rehashing. Not here, not over the phone.

“Do you have a boyfriend? I hope you aren’t too lonely there on the island while you go through this. I support you, darling. And so does your brother and, of course, your dad.”

“Don’t tell him,” Johnny says.

“Johnny,” his mother replies.

“I’m not ready for him to know yet.”

“Promise you will tell him, someday, though. Soon. Not in ten years.”

“When I see him in person.”

“Okay, when you’re in person. That’s fair. Hold on- your brother wants to talk to you. Yes you do, Davey. Here he is.” There’s some shuffling noises as his mother hands the phone over to David.

“Hey, Johnny,” David says. Johnny’s pretty sure his voice is at least an octave deeper than it was the last time they talked. He’s growing up.

“So you heard.”

“Dad gets to hear in person. Mom gets a phone call. And I get a text?” David is speaking quickly. Johnny thinks he’s moving to a different room, away from his mother.

“I didn’t really think about it,” Johnny says.

David laughs. “I do not believe that. You think everything through.”

“It’s hard to think about this,” Johnny says.

There’s a long pause. Johnny has no idea what to say.

“Was I the first person you told?” David asks.

“The second.”

Another long pause.

“Johnny. Oh my god. Who was the first? Katie?”

Johnny rolls over to face the wall. “No, Kaner. I don’t know if I’ve told you about him. He’s a friend from the island.”

“A friend. Okay. Or wait. _A friend_?”

Fuck David anyway. What does he know? He’s eighteen. He’s probably a virgin. Actually, probably not. Oh fuck, gross.

“David. He’s really just a friend.”

“Sure, yeah. I’m texting you a pic. I gotta study, though. So.”

“Okay, David. Thanks. For being cool.”

“Yeah, Johnny. Of course. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The text comes in immediately. It’s a picture of a box of trojans.

~~~

Johnny has already brushed his teeth and curled up in bed, on the other side of a twelve hour shift and a two hour run, and is watching clips of bygone Olympics on his computer, when Kaner arrives home from his own twelve hour shift. As he strips down, Johnny’s eyes mostly averted, Kaner talks about all the people he’d met who were on the island for [the yacht races](http://www.cycracetomackinac.com/). When he’s redressed in a navy polo shirt, he sits on the bed across from Johnny and moves Johnny’s computer onto the floor.

He looks at Johnny, mouth neutral, eyes wide. It’s not the first time they’ve been alone since the bar crawl. It’s been a couple weeks and they live together. But this moment feels intimate in a way that makes Johnny remember that night, remember Kaner’s lips, perpetually peeling and sunburned, against his own.

Kaner says, “Come out with me, Johnny.”

“I’m tired, Patrick,” Johnny says.

His refusal hangs in the air a few longs moments, as Kaner continues to regard him intently. And Johnny can’t look away. He doesn’t want to. He thinks about reaching for Kaner, pulling him onto his bed, kissing him again and again and again.

Finally, Kaner punches his arm. “Come on, man, Sharpy’ll pay for our drinks cause he’s basically striking it rich with all the wealthy, yacht-driving, sailboat-owning big spenders in this weekend.”

Johnny sighs. Kaner’s smile deepens and begins to dimple.

“I don’t know,” Johnny says.

Kaner frowns and shakes his head. He gets up and goes to the dresser to apply some hair gel. With his back to Johnny he says, “One of the girls I met tonight, working, her brother’s gonna be on the first or second place boat, probably coming in any moment. And he’s gonna be lookin’, according to her, for a sexy-ass man to suck his dick.”

Johnny should be reaching for his computer again. He should not be considering Kaner’s suggestion. But he is. Getting laid sounds kind of awesome. He’s been thinking hard cocks pressed up against his ass almost constantly for the last week. One hard cock, at least. Well, mostly just Kaner’s hard cock. And apparently, that’s not happening again. Which is all the more reason for him to hook up with someone else.

“How do you even know shit like that, Kaner?” Johnny asks, starting to get out of bed.

“Girls tell me things,” he turns around and waggles his eyebrows at Johnny. “I keep telling you, the ladies love me.” He watches as Johnny stands and stretches, scratching at his chest.

“Let me just throw some clothes on,” Johnny says.

Kaner punches a fist into the air. “Fuck yeah!”

“I’m not staying out long, Kaner,” Johnny warns.

“Whatever, my man, we are totally getting our dicks wet tonight.”

~~~

Johnny’s limbs feel heavy and his eyes keep fluttering shut. He’s only had a beer and a half, but he’s exhausted. Kaner seems as hyped up as ever. He’s practically vibrating with energy, talking about all the chicks he’s going to bone tonight while pretending to be a preppy yacht owner.

There’s been no sign of the gay sailor Kaner mentioned earlier, even though the first four or five boats are definitely in and more are arriving every few minutes.

The patio at the Pony is packed and the bartender who’s serving them is some new guy just hired for the mid-summer rush. Their drinks are not free.

Kaner moves in close to Johnny, and Johnny’s pulse picks up. Kaner puts his mouth almost, _almost_ , against Johnny’s ear. “Be right back,” he says. A shiver runs down Johnny’s neck and right to his cock, which is suddenly half hard.

Johnny’s finished with his beer and trying to decide whether to have another or leave, when Kaner returns, with an entourage. The girl beside him, dark haired and light eyed, is laughing at him as he literally dances his way through the crowd. They’re followed closely by a guy with similarly dark hair and light eyes wearing tight white tee-shirt and perfectly tailored khaki pants.

Probably the brother and sister Kaner had mentioned earlier, and yeah, Johnny thinks, he could tap that.

Kaner introduces them as Casey and Alex and Johnny has no idea which is which. The sister stands next to Johnny, running her fingers through her hair and smiling. She asks where he’s from.

Kaner squeezes Johnny’s forearm as he answers her and gestures toward the bar. Johnny nods and Kaner walks over to get them drinks. The brother, Casey, Johnny thinks, follows him.

By the time Kaner comes back with drinks, Johnny knows he’s talking to Alex, from the suburbs of Chicago, currently attending Loyola where she’s studying social work and who loves puppies so much that she plans on buying herself a corgi for her birthday this November.

Casey the sailor is laughing, body-shaking laughs, as he trails Kaner. Johnny thinks he’s watching Kaner’s ass. Johnny doesn’t know why because Kaner’s ass isn’t that great, especially in those particularly shorts. But Kaner is flushed and smiling, all loose limbed and graceful, like he gets when he’s just the right amount of drunk. And, okay, maybe Johnny can sympathize with the way Casey’s looking at Kaner. A bit.

“Wow,” Alex says, “I would not have seen that one.” She’s looking at her brother and Kaner, too.

“What?” Johnny asks.

“Well,” she smiles, turning back to look at him and twirling a piece of hair around her finger. “You’re way hotter than Patrick.”

Johnny sips his drink, watching as Tyler, in his uniform, but clearly not working very hard comes over to talk to Casey and Kaner. “I’m way gayer, too.”

Alex giggles.

Johnny frowns at her and then into his half empty cup of beer. “Yeah. Laugh it up. Being gay is hilarious.”

She pouts. “I thought you were joking.” He’s about to ask her what she means by that when he notices that Tyler is beginning to drag Kaner and Casey towards the other side of the patio.

Kaner calls out to him, “Johnny, I’m just gonna go meet some people. I’ll be back.” Johnny has difficulty making out all the words over the crowd, especially since Kaner is already moving away from him.

Alex giggles again. “Why don’t you follow them?”

“I fucking hate Tyler,” Johnny says. But he doesn’t much want to be stuck with this Alex chick either.

Seabs and Duncs appear out of nowhere, wearing matching Barenaked Ladies concert shirts, like its the nineties or something. They have a tray of shots, tequila shots.

They offer one to Johnny, who chokes it down immediately, and another to Alex. Seabs suggests, with a smirk, that she lick the salt off his wrist, a challenge she accepts, between soft tinkling laughs.

As he watches her suck the shit out of her lime, Johnny decides it’s definitely time to go home. He’s not getting laid tonight after all. Fucking Kaner.

Johnny waves goodbye to Alex, but she’s too busy staring into Seabs eyes to notice. He searches the patio for Kaner, but he doesn’t see him. He goes up stairs. He sees lots of blond yuppies in navy polos, but no Kaner. He considers trying to find Tyler, to see if he knows what happened to Kaner. But he fucking hates Tyler so, no.

He’s got to assume that Kaner found some chick to hook up with. That’s why he said he was going out tonight. But that’s why he always says he’s going out and Johnny cannot remember a time when he actually left with someone. (Someone other than Johnny, that is.)

Johnny curses Kaner (again) when he gets outside the Pony. Fucking Kaner suggesting that they fucking walk to the Pony. Johnny just wants to be in bed. And he’d be there faster if he had a bike. He considers stealing one, maybe Tyler’s, but decides against it.

A lot of people are out on the streets. A bride and groom are walking several yards ahead of him, holding hands and swaying drunkenly. They’re both barefooted and giggling. And Johnny hates them. He picks up his pace to pass them.

When he gets to the room, he fumbles with the key for a second. He’s so tired and their lock fucking sucks sometimes. He opens the door and Kaner’s already there.

Fuck.

Kaner’s on his knees beside Johnny’s bed. Beside _Johnny’s_ fucking bed.

With sailor boy Casey’s cock in his mouth. It’s really purple against Kaner’s sunburned, swollen red lips.

Fuck.

Kaner moans. And then so does Casey. He’s got his eyes closed. And so does Kaner. They haven’t seen Johnny. He should walk right back out of the room.

Casey fists his hands in Kaner’s hair, undoing the work of the hair gel, and Kaner chokes, but doesn’t pull off.

Kaner moans again. He’s palming himself through his shorts. Johnny wants to do it for him. Fucking hell, Johnny’s gotten hard watching Kaner’s fucking mouth, wet and shiny around that cock.

Why are they on his bed?

“Oh my god, dude, you are really good at this, practiced,” Casey says. He doesn’t open his eyes. But Johnny heartbeat skitters. He backs out the door and shuts it softly. He slides down the opposite wall, eyes on the door, waiting.

Kaner’s being really loud. He’s moaning, these low, whinny sounds that carry through the door and into the hallway, right to Johnny’s dick.

There’s voices inside. Johnny can’t quite make out what they’re saying. He doesn’t care. He’s too busy trying not to touch himself. Casey’s voice is growly, demanding. Kaner talks back, his words flowing quick and sharp.

Then they’re quiet, but Johnny imagines he hears the rustle of sheets. He hopes so. After a minute or two he stands thinking maybe they’re done, maybe he can come in now.

But then his bedframe, _his_ bedframe, starts to knock rhythmically against the wall. He leans against the opposite wall, but doesn’t sit down this time.

He gives in and shoves his hand down his pants. He’s not gonna stroke. His pants are too tight for that, but he’s gotta get some pressure.

Kaner’s moaning again. Really loud. Like the people in the rooms on either side can definitely hear. Holy fuck.

He hears Kaner begin to talk. He remembers his fucking mouth running. That time on the bike. And again those few weeks back when he was with Johnny, in the park, against that slide.

Johnny moves his hand in small jerky motions. It’s all he can manage without unzipping his jeans.

“Fuck, yeah. Fuck. Yeah. Come on. Fuck.” Kaner’s so loud Johnny begins to be able to make out his words. And that’s all it takes. A little friction and Kaner’s dirty fucking mouth and Johnny’s coming all over his own hands, inside his fucking jeans.

He pulls his hand out and wipes it off on his shirt. He stands there panting for he’s not sure how long before Casey comes out the door, not even glancing at Johnny as he makes his way down the hall.

Johnny counts to ten and then opens the door.

Kaner’s laying on his bed, face down and bare-assed. Johnny strips and pulls on a pair of fresh boxers.

“Kaner,” he says. “Get the fuck out of my bed.”

Kaner moans, and says, “Johnny.”

He goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he comes out Kaner hasn’t moved. Johnny walks over to his bed. It reeks of sweat and come and Kaner. He leans over and reaches out, fulling intending to roll Kaner out of his bed and onto the floor, but Kaner’s quicker. He squeezes Johnny, right behind the kneecaps, causing Johnny lose his balance and topple over onto him.

Johnny rolls over, squeezing himself between Kaner and wall, for leverage, and shoves at him, but he’s a dead weight. And Johnny is tired. So fucking tired. He lets himself relax for a second.

Kaner shifts and throws an arm around Johnny, running his hand over Johnny’s back, slow, firm, and warm. “Wished it was you, Johnny,” he says.

Johnny jerks fully awake. “What the fuck, Kaner?”

But Kaner’s breathing has already evened out. And, now that Johnny thinks, maybe Kaner was never really awake in the first place.

Kaner’s hand smooths over Johnny’s back again. And he remembers how tired he is. So fucking tired.

~~~

Johnny wakes up alone. He blinks his eyes open and rolls over. Actually, both Tyler and Kaner are there, in the dorm, but they’re sleeping, in their in own beds. Kaner’s fully clothed, sprawled across the top of his sheets in a v-neck undershirt and boxers. Johnny wonders if maybe he dreamed last night. But, then, as he breathes a deep, settling breath, the smell of sex hits him. Fuck.

Kaner’s mouth around that cock. Kaner’s gay. No. Yes. No. He doesn’t know because Kaner didn’t tell him. Just fucked some douchebag sailor. In Johnny’s bed. Fuck.

Johnny looks at his phone. 5:54am. He’s due in at 6:30.

He showers, changes and heads into work.

He doesn’t see Kaner all day. During their overlap in shifts, they’re never at the same dock at the same time. And Kaner doesn’t text and neither does Johnny. The closest Johnny comes to Kaner is hearing his voice scratching over the radio, calling in help at Arnold Line. In response, Johnny gives Seabs, who’s standing next to him at the Star Line dock, a pleading look. Seabs shrugs and replies to Kaner’s request.

When he gets back to the dorm, Johnny’s bedding is folded neatly on top of his mattress. It’s clean and smells like Kaner’s laundry detergent. There’s a note next to it that reads _Sorry. Please keep the tee.-PK_.

In the middle of the pile, right under Johnny’s pillow case, is Kaner’s soft red shirt.

Tyler comes out of the bathroom in a towel. Johnny starts making his bed.

“So, you and Kaner, huh?” Johnny whips around and gets eyeful of Tyler’s naked ass. He turns back to the bed.

“No.”

Tyler laughs. “I don’t care if you’re gay or whatever.”

Johnny stays silent, folding precise hospital corners at the foot of his bed.

Tyler, now wearing pants, comes over and sits on the bed opposite Johnny’s. “Seriously, man. Kaner told me that he was a homo or whatever, a few weeks ago. It’s totally cool.”

Johnny stops and sits down. He looks at his hands and not at Tyler. “Kaner’s gay? He told you that?”

Tyler shifts. “Duh, he’s gay. You guys had sex last night or whatever. You don’t have to hide it from me. I just said he already told me.”

“We didn’t have sex last night,” Johnny says, finally able to look at Tyler.

“Blew each other. Jerked each other off. Whatever.” Tyler says. He goes over to the closet and pulls out a pink work shirt. “What time do you work tomorrow, Johnny? I’m doing twenty miles and I’d love company.”

Johnny thinks for a second. He’s having trouble tearing his mind away from Kaner. Being gay. And telling Tyler, but not him. What. The. Fuck.

Johnny flips to the calendar on his phone. “It’s my day off tomorrow. Whenever you want, I can run.”

“Cool,” Tyler says, grabbing his keys. “See you later.”

It’s only then, in the suddenly empty room, that Johnny realizes he willingly agreed to spend time with fucking Tyler for no reason at all. Fuck.

~~~

It’s a quiet night at the Pony, quiet for late July, at least. Johnny, Seabs, Duncs, and Kaner are sprawled out over a big booth. Sharpy’s been serving them pitchers of Bud Lite for a couple hours. Nobody’s drunk, though. They’ve been downing them pretty slowly.

“When do you leave, anyway?” Seabs is sitting right beside Johnny and turns a little to face him when he asks the question.

Johnny sips his beer and thinks. “Ten days.”

Kaner shifts, but doesn’t look up from the napkin he’s been ripping into little squares.

Duncs says, “Tight-ass training begins early, don’t it?”

“Maintaining an ass this fine takes a lot of work,” Johnny replies, meeting his eyes.

Kaner sits up straighter and looks toward the bar. They all follow his gaze.

“Way out of your league, Kaner,” Seabs says.

Johnny sees the chick he must be talking about. She’s blonde and leggy with a pretty face. She’s laughing with a not quite as attractive friend over a couple of glasses of red wine.

She turns toward them. And smiles. Johnny’s pretty sure it’s directed at him.

“I stand corrected. Go get her, tiger.” Seabs kicks at Kaner under the table.

“What?” Kaner’s looking at his napkin again. “I don’t even know who you’re talking about, bro.”

The woman is looking over at them again. Seabs gives her a little wave. Duncs buries his head in his hands and groans. As the woman and her friend move toward them, Duncs lifts his face to look up at Seabs and says, “Now one of us is going to have to entertain the ugly one. Smooth. It’s not gonna be me.”

Kaner chuckles. He waggles his eyebrows at Duncs. “I’ve seen you naked, bro. You cannot afford to be choosy.”

“You’re a disgusting fucker,” Duncs says immediately.

Johnny’s trying very hard not focus on the question of when Kaner would have seen Duncs naked. Like, does he sleep with lots of his friends? Because that’s—

“Hey guys, I’m Amy.” The not so hot girl introduces herself first. Up close, her face isn’t bad. “Can we sit with you guys?”

Johnny scoots over, and the hot girl sits down beside him.

“My name’s Kelly.” She directs her smile at Johnny.

Duncs doesn’t move to let the other girl in. “Ladies. I’m broke and not really in the mood to fuck around.”

Amy’s face falls into a frown. Nobody says anything. Kelly looks at Duncs.

“Well, if you change your mind, call me.” Kelly jots her number down on Johnny’s napkin. And then hands it to Duncs. “I’m a lifeguard at the Grand,” she says over her shoulder, as she walks away.

Seabs cracks up, falling all over Johnny and almost spilling the pitcher of beer as he goes to pour Duncs another glass.

Kaner’s laughing, too. He punches Duncs in the shoulder, “You blew it, bro. I swear to God she was coming over here for Johnny.”

“That would’ve been her loss,” Duncs says. “Cause everyone knows Johnny’s been a fuckin’ priest this summer.”

“Yeah,” Seabs says, “I’ve been wondering about that. Like, I thought you’d be taking chicks to poundtown all summer, now that you’re single.”

Duncs and Seabs watch him. Kaner’s pulled out his phone and is flipping through his twitter feed.

“Kaner’s been about as lucky as me,” Johnny says, finally.

Duncs says, “Kaner couldn’t get laid if he tried. He’s obnoxious and ugly.”

Kaner doesn’t look up from his phone, but he elbows Duncs and says, “The ladies love me. I’m a straight baller.”

Seabs brows are furrowed and he’s not really smiling. “Seriously, Johnny, you’ve been weird all summer.”

“You’re talking about the intense frowns and the brooding runs and the serious hatred of fun? Cause that’s normal for Johnny.” Kaner still hasn’t looked up from his goddamn phone.

Johnny’s been thinking about talking to Seabs and Duncs for a while, since he came out to his parents. He trusts them and he kind of, just, wants to know people are cool with it. So he says, “I’m gay.”

Sharpy appears with a fresh pitcher of beer even though theirs is still half full and shoves Duncs over, taking a seat. “Hey boys, brought you a present. It’s on the house.”

Everyone is silent.

Sharpy bobs his head. “So you were talking about me. That’s cool. I say lots of mean shit about you guys behind your backs.”

“We weren’t talking about you, bro,” Kaner says.

“Johnny likes dudes, apparently,” Seabs says and takes a large gulp of beer.

“You just can’t—” Johnny says at the same time Kaner says, “Not cool, man.” Their eyes meet, but Kaner looks back down at his phone almost immediately.

Sharpy looks at Johnny and Johnny can’t quite meet his eyes. “What?”

“I, um,” he hesitates and looks up. Sharpy nods. Someone kicks him under the table. Maybe its Kaner. “I’m gay.”

Duncs frowns. “Fine. Well. I respect you.”

Seabs laughs, “Not surprised, bro. I’ve got your back.”

Sharpy nods, he’s laughing, too. And, okay, Johnny’s sexual orientation is not funny. What is their problem?

He realizes that all three, Duncs, Seabs and Sharpy, are looking at Kaner. He taps his fingers against the tabletop and doesn’t meet anybody’s eyes. Johnny’s not sure what he’s missing, but he’s definitely missing something.

Sharpy says, “Kaner?”

Kaner smiles, a very tiny smile. “Johnny already knows I support him.”

Johnny remembers the feel of Kaner’s hand, freezing cold, on top of his, right after he’d first told him. He almost smiles back at Kaner, but then he remembers last weekend, Kaner on his knees in front of that sailor. He remembers that Kaner told _Tyler_ he was gay before he told Johnny. Actually, he still hasn’t told Johnny.

“Sure he does, Kaner,” says Duncs. “I can tell you guys are being real grown up about all your shit right now. Am I right?”

He shoves at Sharpy who nods, and then stands up and stretches. “Back to the grind, boys.” He heads back to the bar.

Seabs says, “Hey, so is this related to that thing we were talking about the other day?” The question is directed at Kaner who freezes.

“Yes. No. Never mind. I’m not even sure I’m going to finish it.” He’s got a salt shaker and he’s making a little mountain of salt on the table in front of him.

What the fuck? Kaner’s obviously out to Seabs, too.

Johnny looks at his phone. He’s got a text from David. It’s a picture of Lego Darth Vader. It’s captioned, _yo bro_.

“I’ve got to go back to the dorm. It’s late. I work early and I want to give David a call,” Johnny climbs out of the booth.

“Don’t be a stranger. Let’s hang out again before you leave,” Seabs says.

“Yeah, man,” Duncs agrees.

Kaner is still occupied with the salt.

~~~

~~~

Johnny checks his phone as he’s getting off work. He doesn’t expect any messages. He and David talked last night. He and Kaner haven’t texted in over a week. Not since before the yacht races.

So he’s a little surprised when he sees three messages, all from Kaner.

6:03 _sunset tonight?_

6:04 _i mean will u watch it w me after ur shift_

6:32 _please?_

The sun is already low in the sky. Johnny might miss it, even if he heads out now. Kaner would have to already be there by now to be able to get any good photographs. That likelihood seems slim. Johnny texts back _sure, only if ur there now_ and receives back an immediate _gr8 im here_.

Johnny’s pulse speeds up. He thinks about texting that he’s changed his mind. He doesn’t know what to say to Kaner. He thought they were best friends, at least for the summer, but apparently not. Apparently Kaner’s best friends with Tyler and Seabs and that goddamn sailor.

He gets on his bike and heads for the west side of the island.

When he finds Kaner, he’s sitting with his feet in the shallow water. He doesn’t have his camera. As far as Johnny can tell, all he’s brought with him is his bike.

“This is one of your last chances to catch the sunset before the summer’s over. I would have thought you’d have been shooting like a crazy person. I really thought that’s why you wanted to come out here,” Johnny says. These are the first words he’s spoken directly to Kaner in over a week.

Kaner looks up at him, smiling. It’s a small smile, and the dusky light makes it look soft and warm. Johnny’s chest constricts. “I’m almost done editing it, actually,” Kaner says.

Johnny’s not sure what he means. He sits down beside him and looks out at the water. It’s so still. It reminds him of that first sunset, early in the summer, when he skipped rocks.

“Actually, man, I’d like to show you the film I made, sometime, soon. As soon as I finish it,” Kaner says. His voice sounds off. Johnny turns to look at him. Kaner’s eyes are trained forward, looking right at the bridge and his index finger is digging a hole in the dirty sand beside him.

Kaner licks his lips, tongue lingering on the bottom lip. Johnny can’t look away from him. He _wants_. But also. Kaner’s been a huge fucking dick to him. “Why did you come out here if you aren’t shooting?”

Kaner’s looks at him. His eyes are glassy, like maybe he’s about to cry. And that’s not fucking fair. Kaner turns his gaze back onto the lake and swallows, his finger digging deeper and deeper and deeper.

“Johnny, I just wanted to talk to you. Alone.”

“Well, you haven’t been saying much, buddy.”

Kaner winces. “Yeah, okay.” He still doesn’t say anything. He does sit up a little straighter and rub his hands together, dusting off the sand and dirt.

Johnny sighs and makes to stand up. But Kaner grabs his wrist.

“Hey, listen. It’s just. I also. I’m like you.”

“You’re like me? Really fucking pissed?” Johnny shakes his wrist free of Kaner’s grip. “I’ve gotta go.” He stands up.

“No, you bastard. Listen to me, I like guys, too, sexually.” Johnny looks down. Kaner’s got tears in his eyes.

Johnny stops and shakes his head. “Yeah?” The word hisses out of him.

Kaner isn’t looking at Johnny, but he nods.

“Well I’m glad you told me now. And not fucking before. Before we fucked around. Before I caught you blowing some random dude on my bed. Before fucking douchebro Tyler told me you came out him. Yeah, it’s a good thing you fucking told me.”

Kaner stands up and faces Johnny. “Oh my god, bro. I tried to tell you. Like three times. But you’ve been so fucking stuck in your own misery that you wouldn’t let me. You weren’t fucking listening.” Kaner’s breathing hard, eyes narrowed- focused right on Johnny. “You’re such a dick.”

“I can’t believe you’re trying to pin this on me,” Johnny’s voice is getting louder, he knows it, but he can’t help it. “First, ‘I’m gay.’ It’s like two words. Don’t tell me you never had the chance to say two words to me, you fucker. Second, you slept with someone else in my bed. I know your bed’s usually a fucking mess, but you couldn’t even be assed to throw your shit on the floor or what? What the fuck, Kaner? And third, you told Tyler before me. I thought we were. Fuck. I don’t know what I thought we were.”

Kaner’s chewing on his lip. The tears are back and he wipes at them with the back of his hand. “Johnny…” It comes out like a whine. And Johnny waits. But he doesn’t say anything.

“Patrick. I can’t. I’ve got to go.” Johnny turns to grab his bike. He’s gonna go for a run. Calm down. Clear his head. Get away from Kaner.

He hears Kaner scrambling to follow him. He picks up his bike and doesn’t look back. As he rides away he hears Kaner call out to him.

“Johnny, shit, man. Come back. You’re my best friend.”

Not fucking likely.

~~~

Kaner doesn’t come back to the room until after Johnny’s asleep that night. And Johnny works an early shift the next morning so they don’t actually see each other until the next afternoon, after Johnny’s shift.

Except that they don’t see each other then, really, either. Kaner’s on his bed, computer open, headphones on. He nods at Johnny, face neutral, when he comes through the door and then he disappears back into his own world.

When Johnny gets back from his run, Kaner’s gone, but he’s left a note stuck on the mirror that he’s at the Pony bothering Sharpy.

Johnny showers and changes. As he sits on his bed and clips his toenails, Tyler puts on cologne and carries on a mostly one-sided conversation. He apparently knows somebody with a yacht docked on the island and Johnny’s invited to go drink on the boat with them, if he wants.

Seabs and Duncs have both texted to invite him to the Pony. Johnny decides to go with Tyler to the yacht. He doesn’t invite Kaner. Neither does Tyler, thank god.

~~~

The next day his shift overlaps with Kaner’s for several hours. They talk politely over the radio twice. They pass one another on their bicycles once and Kaner waves, but keeps his head down.

After his afternoon run, a long slow trek that helps him clear his head, Johnny decides to suck it up. He’ll go out with the boys. He can stand to be around Kaner.

Things were pretty bad before, like after they hooked up and after Kaner… yeah. And actually after venting the other evening, Johnny feels much better. Like maybe he could forgive Kaner. They could be friends again. Coming out is pretty hard, and, like, he can’t really judge him for how he chose to do it, not really.

He texts Seabs before he hops in the shower. They agree to meet up at Goodfellow's to watch the baseball game.

It’s a slow game (no runs and only 3 hits and it’s already the bottom of the fourth) and Seabs is pretty quiet. Johnny’s feeling anxious for Kaner to just show the fuck up already but he doesn’t.

Duncs arrives a little after ten, still dressed in his uniform, right off a shift. Immediately, he asks, “Where’s Kaner?”

Duncs is looking at Johnny when he asks the question, but, after a long second, Seabs answers. “He’s working on that video. Didn’t feel like coming out.”

Johnny frowns. “What video?”

Duncs and Seabs meet each other’s eyes and don’t answer Johnny’s question. Duncs waves down the bartender and orders a Guinness.

“What video?” Johnny repeats.

“The video he’s been working on all summer, Johnny?” Duncs says it like it's a question.

Johnny nods. “What’s it about?”

Duncs scoffs and focuses on the game. Or rather on the car insurance commercial that’s currently playing.

Seabs says, “I have no idea what it’s about, but I thought _you_ would know.”

Johnny shrugs.

“What the hell is Jim Leyland’s problem?! The Tigers need a new General Manager,” Duncs says. The game is back on and it’s a Wallside Windows pitching change.

No one mentions Kaner again.

~~~

When Johnny gets back to the dorm, the lights are out, but Kaner’s still awake. He’s on his back, computer perched on his stomach. The dim glow of his screen lights up his face. Like before, he meets Johnny’s eyes and nods, but the furrow in his brow doesn’t disappear. He doesn’t smile.

Johnny changes with his back to Kaner. He thinks he feels the heat of Kaner’s gaze, watching him closely. He can’t help it. His breathing picks up and heat curls in his belly.

Yet, when he turns around, Kaner’s entirely absorbed in whatever he’s doing on his computer.

~~~

Johnny and Tyler go for a run together the next afternoon. Johnny’s been training this summer, but not as hard as he had hoped to. He’s not any faster than he was at the end of the track season and coach’s going to make him pay for it at Cross-Country camp.

About a half hour into the run, Tyler starts talking about his thing with Sarah. He’s leaving the day before Johnny and Sarah’s been clear: that’s it for them. Tyler explains that they were mostly just friends with benefits anyway. So he’s totally okay with her decision. Totally.

Then he says, “What about you and Kaner? What are you guys going to do about, you know, being apart?”

Johnny replies, “We’re not together. We never were.”

Tyler laughs. “Yeah. That’s what Sarah said.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes. They’re running on a dirt trail on the edge of the bluff. It’s a lot of hills and Johnny’s feeling it.

“What if Kaner, like, doesn’t feel the same as you? What if he thinks you’re together? Like, have you asked him? What would you say if he asked you to be in some kind of relationship?”

Johnny almost trips over a root. “What has Kaner told you about our relationship?”

“What? I haven’t talked to Kaner about you, like ever.”

“Oh,” Johnny says, “I thought you guys were bros.”

“Yeah, that’s cause he’s fuckin’ ace at drinking games.”

They’re mostly quiet for the rest of the run. Johnny doesn’t even complain when Tyler adds an extra two miles to their cool down. He tries not to think about Tyler’s questions. But, fuck, what would he do if Kaner wanted to be with him?

~~~

Kaner doesn’t want to be with him, though. He’s making that much clear.

They’re out at the bar, later that night. Kaner and him. And Tyler (and Sarah and Leah and Andrea). And Duncs and Kelly. Seabs is still working.

Kaner’s focused on Leah and Andrea. They’re talking about some tv show Johnny’s never heard of- Tigertown or Cougarville or some shit.

Johnny’s half in the conversation between Duncs and Kelly about what’s the best beer for the best occasion. But he can’t stop watching Kaner. He looks more relaxed than usual, not tearing up any napkins or dumping over any salt shakers. He’s smiling, deep enough to reveal his dimples. And Johnny’s heart aches.

It’s not even ten when Kaner announces he’s beat and heading back to the dorm.

Johnny stands up and finds himself saying, “I’ll go with you.”

“Yeah, sure,” Kaner says, already walking toward the door.

Tyler turns away from Sarah and smiles at Johnny. “I’m just gonna go back with her tonight. So bro, you guys can just, you know, do your thing.”

“We don’t have a thing,” Johnny shouts over his shoulder as he races to catch up to Kaner, who’s already outside.

Kaner’s already at the end of the block and Johnny has to jog to catch him.

“Sorry, man,” Johnny says. “Tyler.”

Kaner doesn’t look at him. “Whatever, bro. Didn’t you ride your bike here?”

“No, I walked with Tyler.”

Kaner looks at him, then. “I thought you hated Tyler.”

Johnny doesn’t reply and they’re silent for a while. It’s a hot night, and humid. His skin feels damp. A taxi passes carrying a group of grey haired folks dressed in suits, laughing drunkenly. Beside him Kaner’s clenching and unclenching his fist.

Johnny feels a burst of energy. Maybe he’ll go for another run. A short one.

“What about this video project you’ve been working on?” Johnny asks Kaner.

“What about it?”

They’re almost at the steps of the white house. A bunch of underage kids are on the porch, drunk and smoking cigarettes.

“What is it?”

Kaner doesn’t answer him, but he does open the door for Johnny, a small smile on his face. It’s the first smile he’s directed at Johnny since that last sunset. But it doesn’t relax Johnny. If anything, he feels even more jumpy.

As they walk up the stairs toward their room, Kaner says, “I guess I could show it to you. It’s only like two minutes.”

Johnny unlocks the door and lets Kaner go in front of him. “What is it?”

Kaner shrugs. “It’s a promotional video of the island.” He goes over to his bed and opens his computer. Johnny pulls off his shirt and shorts and comes over to sit next to Kaner, on top of a lumpy pile of blankets.

Kaner clicks a few buttons and suddenly the bridge in the sunset takes up the whole screen. And then its children and fudge and horses and shady paths and bikers and [the cannon at the Fort](http://www.mackinacparks.com/photo-gallery/index.aspx?l=0,1,19,25) and [the white wooden wrap-around porch on the Grand Hotel](http://www.grandhotel.com/the-hotel#72157623428872151&7138770083) and [the Star Line boat](http://www.mackinacferry.com/) with its high tail of spewing water. The colors are bright and sharp. The music’s soft, but upbeat. Johnny thinks its probably pretty good.

The whole time they’re watching, Kaner’s leg is bouncing. When the clip finishes, Johnny asks, “That’s awesome. But like, why?”

“Oh!” Kaner runs a hand through his hair and looks at back down at his computer. “Well, the manager at the Chip heard that I’m going to school for this stuff and told me that the Chamber of Commerce was looking to hire someone to shoot a promo for their website. They didn’t have to pay me as much as they would a professional and it’s pretty good for my portfolio.”

Johnny smiles at Kaner. “Sweet.” He’s aware of the three inches separating their thighs on the bed. He’s aware of Kaner’s quiet shallow breaths. He’s aware that their shoulders are almost, but not quite, touching. He focuses instead on Kaner’s computer. There’s a minimized window in the corner of the screen. The title reads “better.”

He points to it. “What’s that?”

Kaner moves to shut his computer, but Johnny reaches out to stop him, their hands brushing. “It’s just another little video I’ve been working on,” Kaner says.

Johnny clicks it open. He’s in Kaner’s space now.

A black and white image of Kaner in a v-neck undershirt, pops up. Beside Johnny, one of Kaner’s hands is balled up in the sheet next to him. He doesn’t stop Johnny from pressing play.

Kaner on the screen isn’t smiling. But he isn’t frowning either. He’s chewing on his lip. After a few seconds he says. “I want you to know. It gets better.”

Johnny pauses the video. “You made an ‘It gets better’ video,” he says to Kaner.

Kaner nods, and then says, “But I haven’t posted it yet. I don’t know if I’m going to.”

Johnny unpauses the video. Then, he takes the computer off Kaner’s lap and sets it on Tyler’s bed. He meets Kaner’s eyes. Kaner’s frowning. “Johnny, please,” he says.

Kaner on the computer is saying, “I know what it’s like to think you’re alone, that you should hide, that things could only get worse. Until this summer, I really thought I was alone. I really thought I should just keep hiding. I really, really thought things would get worse if I was honest with others, even if I was honest with myself.”

Kaner licks his lips and Johnny kisses him. He’s still against Johnny, for a moment. And Johnny starts to pull back, but then Kaner’s hands slide up Johnny’s arms and behind Johnny’s head, holding him close.

His tongue tangles with Johnny’s. The kiss becomes wet and sloppy. Kaner pulls back and mouths at Johnny’s neck. Johnny groans and grabs at Kaner’s curls.

In the background he hears Kaner on the computer say, “But I had a friend. Who was able to be honest. With himself. And with me. And, watching him, listening to him, I knew, not only that I wasn’t alone, but that it could get better instead of worse.”

“Johnny,” Kaner in real life says pulling back and looking into Johnny’s eyes. “I’m really sorry. I’m sorry that—”

But Johnny doesn’t care. He presses their mouths back together and slides his fingers under Kaner’s shirt. He maps Kaner’s stomach, his back, his shoulders. He brushes a thumb over one of Kaner’s nipples and Kaner writhes. Against Kaner’s mouth he says, “This fucking shirt.” He pulls it over Kaner’s head and off.

He pushes Kaner down onto the bed. Kissing his jaw, tongue running back and forth over the rough stubble. Kaner’s hands are dipping under the elastic waste band of Johnny’s boxer briefs and over his ass. Kaner squeezes and fuck. Johnny arches into him.

Into his ear, Kaner whines, “Your ass, man, your goddamn ass. All fuckin’ summer.”

Kaner’s belt buckle is digging into Johnny’s stomach and his shorts need to get the fuck off. Johnny reaches between them to try to undo it. All the while Kaner’s mouthing his ear, panting short harsh breaths right into it, biting Johnny’s neck right underneath it.

Johnny struggles. The fucking buckle is more complicated than it has any right to be. Huffing, he sits up to look at it, sliding between Kaner’s legs. When glances down, he sees Kaner arching underneath him, fists balling up the sheets, head turned to the side, eyes closed, and he thinks, _this. This is it_.

He undoes the belt buckle and pulls down Kaner’s shorts. The fucker isn’t wearing underwear. He rarely does and it’s something Johnny tries not to think about very often. Kaner’s dick doesn’t lay quite flat against him. It’s fat and pink, a bead of milky pre-cum forming at the slit.

Johnny palms it. It’s hot and heavy, and noticeably unfamiliar.

“Shit,” Kaner breathes.

Johnny continues stroking it, while he presses kisses down Kaner’s throat and chest. He runs his tongue over one of Kaner’s tiny pink nipples eliciting a high pitched keen. He moves down, mouthing at Kaner’s soft belly and biting hard at a spot right above his hip.

He looks at Kaner’s dick. He wants to suck it. He’s going to suck it. But, like, he’s never… before and he’s not sure.

“Put my cock in your fucking mouth, already, man. Come the fuck on, Johnny.”

So Johnny does. He’s overwhelmed with the musky smell of sex. He runs his tongue over it.

“Come on Johnny. Put your hand on it. Fuck yeah, there you go. Yeah. Suck it, Johnny, suck it.”

Kaners voice is whiny and his words are punctuated with moans.

“Faster, yeah, yeah. Let’s go. Fuck. Hard Johnny. I’m not afraid of your fucking teeth, just. Yes. Fuck,”

Johnny picks up his pace and tightens his grip. Kaner shifts, his knees coming up to frame Johnny’s shoulders. Johnny’s vaguely aware of his own erection. Hard, despite the lack of attention. Kaner’s commands have stopped and he’s just moaning and moaning. He’s so fucking loud and Johnny loves it.

“Coming, Johnny. I’m…” Johnny pulls off and continues jerking him firmly as he spills in hot white pulses over Johnny’s hand. Kaner’s silent, biting his lower lip, eyes never leaving Johnny’s face, as Johnny continues to stroke him all the way through.

After a moment, he relaxes, legs falling flat and eyes closing. Johnny slides off his underwear, reaches between his own legs and, hand coated in Kaner’s come, begins to stroke himself.

He’s not gonna last long. He can already feel his orgasm building in his balls. Kaner reaches over to wrap his fingers over Johnny’s wrist. “Stop, hold on, Johnny.”

Johnny obeys. He lets Kaner manhandle him until their positions are reversed and he’s laying flat on his back with Kaner between his legs.

Kaner takes Johnny’s cock in his hands and presses soft kisses down it. He mouths at Johnny’s balls. Holy fuck. Johnny sits up on his elbows so he can watch Kaner take him into his mouth. Those fucking lips wrap around him, swallow him up in wet heat.

Kaner moans and _fucking hell_ Johnny feels it vibrating through him. Kaner’s free hand reaches to cup his balls rolling them gently. He speeds up and Johnny’s almost there. He’s almost. Kaner slows up and Johnny grabs at his head.

“Kaner,” he says.

Kaner moans again and Johnny blacks out as he comes. Kaner keeps his mouth on him, sucking and sucking until Johnny says, “Yeah. Okay.” He realizes he’s made a fist in Kaner’s hair. He’s probably pulled it pretty hard, so he untangles it gingerly. Smiling, deep enough his dimples show, Kaner crawls up to kiss Johnny.

Kaner tastes bitter, strange, like Johnny’s come, he realizes. Kaner reaches for his sheet and pulls it over them. He lays on his side, against the wall, head on Johnny’s shoulder and arm across Johnny’s chest.

“Goodnight,” Kaner says.

“Kaner, we haven’t—” Johnny begins, but Kaner squeezes him hard and says, “Shush, man, it’s bedtime.”

And Johnny drifts off. But he’s awake again before long. The bed is tiny and cramped. He wants to roll over. And his foot itches, but Kaner’s got a hard grip on him and he doesn’t want to wake him up. So he lays there. And lays there. And lays there. He must fall asleep again, but it takes a long while.

When he wakes up again, it’s still dark and his alarm hasn’t gone off. He disentangles from Kaner and finds his phone. It is morning and he has just enough time for a quick run before he has to get ready for work.

As he’s tying up his shoes, Kaner sits up, blinking. “Johnny?”

“Good morning, Kaner. I’m just going for a run. You can go back to sleep.”

Kaner leans over to looks out the window beside his bed. “Is it morning?”

“Yeah, for some of us.”

Swallowing and licking his lips, Kaner slowly stands. “You’re running?”

Johnny nods.

“Mind if I go with you?” Kaner asks.

Kaner does not run. Johnny knows Kaner has a pair of tennis shoes, but he think he mostly wears them for pick-up games of ultimate frisbee and softball. Still, he thinks it might be nice not to have to leave Kaner, and he has time for another run in the afternoon.

So Johnny nods and says, “Sure.”

He tries to go slow. Kaner’s breathing’s pretty heavy, even just a couple minutes in.

They’re quiet. The streets are empty except for a street cleaner, scooping horse shit, who nods at them as they pass. Johnny takes them out onto on the gravel path in front of Mission Point Resort. The sky over the water is turning from grey to a pale orange.

At the the very edge of the point, Kaner stops abruptly, clutching at his knees. After a minute, he stands up and pants, “Maybe we can walk back?”

Johnny laughs. And, then, so does Kaner.

 


End file.
